#this is so stupid. need to draw jay covered in blood now

[staracket]

#art stuffs #this is so stupid. need to draw jay covered in blood now #i hope i am not an artist to you all but a Draw-er at best. comedian at worst #marble hornets #mh #mh tim #mh jay

[collecting-stories]

High - JJ (Outer Banks)

Request: First of all, I’m a big fan of your writing :)) do you write imagines based off of songs? If yes, maybe one based on High by 5 Seconds of Summer? With JJ from outer banks

A/N: So this is basically broken up into like different moments in the relationship between the reader and JJ. 

\\\

Scarlett was droning on about something that Kelce had said to her as you stood by the drinks counter, waiting for the smoothies she had ordered. The spinach and mango, so she said, was amazing for complexion. While she talked your eyes scanned the lobby of the country club. You had a decent view of the dining room from where you were and you caught a glimpse of blond passing the doors just as you looked over.  

“So I told him it’s over with us.”  

“Yeah, I don’t blame you.” You replied, mindlessly, as you waited for the doors to the kitchen to open again.

“Sarah wants to go to Chapel Hill tomorrow but like, I don’t know, I just don’t think my head is in doing a day out. Like I just need to focus on putting myself back out there.”  

“Yeah...you should.”  

The kitchen doors opened and you smiled as you saw JJ walk out, server’s outfit on and carrying basin for the dishes under one arm. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and opened a text to him.  

-I can see you-

-stalker. do I look hot?- He replied.  

-I couldn’t tell-

JJ left the basin on an empty table and walked over to the dining room doors, looking across the lobby to see you at the juice counter. You smiled and winked at him before texting again.

-Oh yeah, super hot-

-God you’re so obsessed with me-

You bit your lip to stop from laughing and drawing Scarlett’s attention away from telling the girl behind the juice counter about her breakup.  

-It’s cause you’re so hot-

-you must feel so lucky I’m your boyfriend-

“What do you think?” Scarlett asked, turning to you.

“What?” You looked over at her, realizing too late that you had zoned out of the conversation for too long. You had no idea what she was asking.  

“I swear to god. First I can’t rely on Kelce and now you’re off in la la land fucking texting when I’m trying to talk to you. My therapist said that people just keep letting me down and it’s so true.”

“I’m sorry Scarlett, I’m not trying to ‘let you down’. Look, lets go do yoga okay? You’ll feel better. It’s bikram, we can sweat out all our problems.” You promised, grabbing your smoothie.

“Fine.” Scarlett nodded, grabbing her own smoothie and looking across the lobby. JJ was still in the doorway of the dining room, watching the both of you, and she frowned. “Ugh, I can’t stand these losers they employ.”

“What?” You looked over at JJ. He smiled and then disappeared back into the dining room.  

“Gross.” Scarlett muttered, linking her arm with yours and leading you away.  

-

“Come here,” JJ held his hand out for you as the boat slowed to a stop. You grasped his hand in yours and stepped off the dock, boarding the HMS Pogue. When you were safely on board he yanked on your hand to pull you against him, smiling when you gripped his shirt to keep yourself upright. “Hey.”

“Hi.” You barely got out a greeting as he leaned down and kissed you. It was still off-season, a little colder than usual, and JJ had his grey sweatshirt on. You were particularly fond of the sweatshirt, as stupid as it sounded. It was warm and soft and smelled like the flavored vape he was smoking. “I brought you present,” you said, once he had pulled away.

“Is the present alcohol?” He asked, smiling when you pulled away to grab the cooler and blanket that were still on the dock. “Oh my god, have I ever told you how perfect you are?”

“You are so full of shit Jay.” You laughed.

“So where are you right now?” He joked. Your mom had been urging you to date someone for almost a year now, talking about how your friends all seemed to be getting together and didn’t you want to have someone in your life like that. She didn’t know that you had been dating. You and JJ had been together for almost as long as she had been pestering you.  

Your friends didn’t know either. They had no idea that every time you blew off plans or disappeared for afternoons at a time you were meeting up with JJ. If they knew, if your parents knew, you’d probably be locked in your room, Rapunzel style. Being a kook meant that your parents had a lot of expectations for you and none of them involved you running around the outer banks with a boy like JJ.  

It didn’t matter that you were 100% positive that you loved him or that you had been thinking more and more about the future. All that would matter if your parents or your friends knew was that you were dating a Pogue. And, maybe worse than that, a Maybank.

“Oh, I’m at a campus visitation day in Chapel Hill. Checking out the college, you know.” You replied, sitting down on the bench while JJ guided the boat away from the dock.  

“How’s it looking?”

“The guys are way hotter than I thought they’d be.” You teased, smiling when he looked back at you.  

JJ’s friends knew about you. Countless days had been spent with Kiara and the guys at the Chateau or out on the marsh. They were all infinitely cooler than your own friends and you loved hanging out with them. You would trade being a kook for being a pogue in an instant if it meant never having to go to a stupid house party or listen to Topper’s bullshit ever again. You would have traded anything in the world for the chance to spend all day on the marsh with JJ.  

-

Midsummers was filled with stuffy old rich people and their families and, though you fell under that category, you were bored out of your mind. You’d topped off every drink at your parents’ table as they chatted mindlessly about OBX and weather and business. Your options for the evening were slim. Hang at the table and listen to the most boring conversations known to man or venture out to find Scarlett and Topper and Kelce. The party was in full swing and the air outside, even after the sun had set, was warm. You felt like your dress was sticking to you.  

“Mom, I’ll be right back.”  

“Sure hon.” Your mother waved you off as you headed inside the country club. At least it was air conditioned inside.  

You turned the corner by the stairs, heading for the locker room when some grabbed you. An arm around your waist and a hand pressed to your mouth. You almost screamed but the familiar sensation of cold metal mixed with warm skin told you exactly who the hand covering your mouth belonged to.  

JJ.  

He pulled you into the coat room, finally letting you go to switch on the light.  

“You gave me a heart attack. What the fuck?” You laughed, smacking his arm.  

“Sorry babe, you look fucking hot by the way.”  

“You’re so romantic.” You rolled your eyes at him but leaned in, kissing him anyway. You’d spent all day yesterday with your mom in Chapel Hill and all day today ‘preparing’ for midsummers. This was the first time in over 48 hours that you had seen JJ.  

As he kissed you back his hands went to your waist. He guided you back against the wall, laughing when you got ambushed by unnecessary coats. “Fuck.”  

“Come here.” He switched places with you and sat down on the ground, tugging on your hand to get you on the floor with him. You bunched the long skirt of your dress up to your thighs as you sat on his lap, knees scrapping against the scratchy fabric of the carpet. You were dead if you got caught and he was definitely fired.  

When he leaned in you put a hand on his chest to stop him, “Oh, by the way, I'm not doing it on the floor of the coat room.”  

“But this is so romantic.” He joked, kissing you.

“JJ, I’m serious.”

“Chill,” he held your face in his hands, meeting your eyes, “I just wanna mack on my super hot girlfriend.”

“God you have such a way with words.” You teased.  

“I missed you.”

“Missed you too.”

You kissed him, hands unbuttoning his vest and shirt despite what you had said. John B always joked that the two of you were all over each other and it was probably true. Whenever you were around JJ you just wanted to be as close to him as possible. You felt him suck in his stomach at the sensation of your hands running across his skin. You shifted, kissing his neck with the sole intention of getting him back for the hickey you had almost been grounded over.  

JJ leaned his head back against the wall, giving you more access. His hands found the zipper to your dress and you shrugging out of the top half of your off the shoulder lavender gown. You kissed your way up his throat to his chin and then all the sudden your mother’s voice could be heard right outside the coat room, calling your name, and JJ shot up, smacking his head against the bridge of your nose and sending you back on your ass.

“Oh my god!” you practically whined, holding your nose with one hand as you tried to fix your dress with the other.  

“Oh shit, shit, shit, shit. I’m so sorry.” JJ whispered, grabbing his bowtie and holding it out for you to use as a handkerchief so no blood would get on your dress. “Are you okay?”

“Help me with my dress?” You begged.  

JJ helped you stand up and then proceeded to fix your dress for you, straightening it out and helping you slip your arms in so he could zip it back up. The whole time he apologized profusely. Outside the door your mother called your name again.  

You walked over to the door, peeking out. She’d wandered far enough down the hall that you could sneak out. “Mom,” you called once you came out of the coat room. JJ stayed back, fixing his shirt and vest.

“Oh my god, honey, what happened to you?”  

“I was in the locker room and I banged my face on the door.” You lied, JJ’s bowtie still pressed to your nose.  

Your mom gaped at you until she caught sight of JJ over your shoulder. “You!” She called and he stopped dead in his tracks.  

“Uh, yeah?”

“Take my daughter to get cleaned up please.” She instructed, “go with him okay sweetie.”

“Okay.” You turned to look at JJ and smiled as you followed him to the kitchen.  

“Come right back out when you’re done!” Your mother called after you.  

-

The first time you had ever crossed paths with JJ he was just some kid from the cut. You had texted a friend about where to get the best weed and they had offered to give you their dealer’s number. You’d been surprised when the dealer turned out to be the same age as you. Cute, blond, tall, so high. You had seen JJ around before, his face was pretty familiar, but you didn’t really know him at all. And he might’ve remained just some kid from the cut if you hadn’t asked him to hang out that first day.  

“Hey, uh...I’ve never actually smoked before.” You admitted, playing with the blunt that he’d sold you.  

“It’s not hard.” He shrugged.

Your parents were out for the day and you were sitting on the dock with JJ. He’d come over on the HMS Pogue on his way to meet up with John B and Pope. You had looked nervous, standing on the dock waiting for him to show up. The first thing you’d said when he pulled up was that you. had never done a ‘drug deal’ before. He’d almost laughed out loud.  

“I just, my friends kinda ditched me for the afternoon cause my mom said I can’t go to Chapel Hill and I don’t want to seem super lame, like smoking by myself.” You explained. How sad would you be sitting around and smoking a blunt all alone while your friends went shopping.  

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

“I mean...do you wanna hang out?”

“You wanna hang out with me?” JJ asked, even the haze of his high couldn’t convince him that was a normal request.  

“Yeah?” You shrugged. You’d never hung out with anyone from the cut before but you were bored and, if you were going to start ‘slumming it’ as Topper said, you might as well start with JJ.  

“Yeah okay, but I’m not giving you a discount.”  

“I don’t want a discount!” You laughed.  

-

The boneyard was crowded. Kooks, Tourons, Pogues. Everyone was there for a beginning of the summer party. You had donated the keg money after JJ spent his portion of the cost on weed. Kiara had almost lost it on him when you offered to give them the full amount. Still, you didn’t get to show up with them to the beach or even hang out with them. You were standing around with Kelce and Scarlett as they tried to draw everyone into their argument about who was ‘over’ who. You scanned the party, sipping on your beer as you looked for your boyfriend.

“Hey,”  

You looked back as someone pressed a hand against your back. Rafe.  

“Hey Rafe.” You side stepped out his touch.  

“What’s up, I haven’t seen you around much this summer.” He said, catching your friends’ attention.

“I think she’s got a secret boyfriend.” Scarlett piped up, “she’s always texting and canceling on plans. Took me weeks to get her to go to yoga with me.”

“I’ve been busy.” You replied. Across the way you saw JJ and John B getting beers. You watched your boyfriend adjust his red cap as he looked around. You could only hope he was looking for you.  

“Too busy to hang?” Rafe draped an arm around your shoulders and tried to draw you into his side.

“Obviously if you haven’t seen me around.” You replied, pulling away again. “I need a refill.”

“I’ll come with you.”  

You rolled your eyes as you walked down toward the keg, Rafe following on your heels. If there was anything that you hated about parties it was Rafe Cameron hanging around you. Kiara nodded to you as you approached them, tossing your old cup into the makeshift trash can she had set up to recycle.  

“Hey,” JJ smiled when he saw you.

“Hey, can I grab a beer?”  

“I’ll get one too man,” Rafe announced, his arm around your shoulders again.  

You pulled away once more, “seriously Rafe, get off.”

“Chill out.” He reached out for you, trying to grab your arm.  

JJ shoved him away, “she told you get off her man.”  

You shook your head at him, urging him silently to let it go. He knew that Rafe always bothered you because you’d told him about it countless times. But you didn’t want any trouble tonight. It was supposed to be a chill kegger and you had every intention of sneaking off early with JJ, which wouldn’t happen if he got into it with Rafe now.  

“Stay out of it Pogue.” Rafe tried to look intimidating, stepping up to get in JJ’s face.

“Guys, Rafe, come on.” You pulled on his arm and nodded back toward your group, waiting and watching to see if they needed to intervene.  

Just as Rafe turned to leave JJ spit a mouthful of beer at him, coating you too, and everything went to chaos. Rafe swung at him and JJ tackled him to the ground, throwing punches. John B pushed Kiara and Pope out of the way as Kelce, Topper, Scarlett, and Sarah ran over to see what was happening. As Rafe got his footing again people started to gather around in a circle.  

“JJ!” You shouted as Rafe punched him.  

“Come on,” John B grabbed your arm, pulling you toward him, “stay out of the way.”

“You filthy fucking Pogue.” Rafe shouted, “I’m gonna kill you.”

“Dude, come on, it’s not worth it.” Topper urged, trying to grab Rafe’s arm.

“Fucking try you pussy.” JJ was quick to bait Rafe, dodging a punch and then getting him with a right hook in the stomach.  

With Rafe on the ground John and Pope grabbed JJ, dragging him away from the fight as Topper helped Rafe to his feet. Kiara looked over at you when Scarlett called for you to follow them back to their side of the boneyard. You looked back to where John B was pulling JJ along the beach.  

“Where are you going?” Scarlett called when you took off in JJ’s direction.  

You ignored her, running over and stepping in their path, hands immediately going to JJ’s face. You brushed hair away from his eyes as he looked away from you.  

“I don’t wanna hear it.” He said.

“Too bad.”  

JJ pulled away and crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at the ground before he met your eyes. “I don’t need you to bitch me out, those guys are assholes, I’m sorry you’re friends with them but I’m not going act like they aren’t all dicks.”  

“I’m not gonna bitch you out.” You said.  

“What?”

“I’m not gonna bitch you out. Rafe’s a dick.”

“Then what do you want?” He asked, scuffing his foot in the sand.

You shrugged, “to make sure my boyfriend is okay? To tell him I love him.”

JJ bit his lip, smiling at you. Maybe it was the alcohol or the adrenaline from the fight but you thought that his eyes looked a little glassy as he looked at you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”  

“I love you too.” He reached out for you, pulling you close so that he could kiss you. He stopped just short, resting his forehead against yours, “you sure, cause I’m about to mack on you in front of everyone.”

“I was so hoping you would.”

-

Oh my god my Tumblr is literally so Outer Banks heavy right now and I don't even care. 

Starting a taglist for my Outer Banks stuff:

taglist: @poguesrforlife

#JJ (outer banks) x reader #JJ (outer banks) imagine #JJ (outer banks) fanfiction #JJ x reader #JJ imagine #JJ Maybank x reader #JJ Maybank imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks fanfic #outer banks fanfiction #outerbanks imagine #outerbanks fanfic #outerbanks fanfiction #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #obx fanfic #collecting stories imagine #cs discography series

[gangrenados]

A-z for vampire jason? Please

•Could you do all the AU!Vampire alphabet with Jason, please?

I wanted to use a more vampire-ish gif BUT I can't say no to a shirtless gif of this dude, sorry

Warning: blood, death and murder mentions

A - Accident - would they turn someone to save their life?

I don't think so, that person has to be really important to Jason for him to consider turning them into a vampire. Like you, one of his siblings (cuz batkids care about each other idgaf), Alfred or his close friends...maybe even Bruce but I'm not so sure about that one...

B - Bite - how do they bite? Sensually, aggressively? Do they make it hurt or try to be gentle?

When Jason bites you he tries to be gentle and not apply so much pressure. He doesn't want to hurt you too much, so he prefers to take things slow.

Of course, if he comes to bite you in privacy then he will do it in a sensual way, doing everything possible to give them hickeys since they like to see them afterwards.

Now, if he is feeding on someone unimportant then he doesn't care that much if it hurts or not. Of course, it all depends on who this person is, because if it is someone who made him angry then he could even tear the skin so that more blood comes out.

C - Control - do they take advantage of their powers?

Of course! He uses every one of his abilities when he has to fight, it would be very foolish if he didn't.

Besides, he uses them for extremely normal things, like not turning on the lights at night to go to eat something, using his cloaking ability to scare you a little and flying around when he feels very overwhelmed and wants to be alone for a while...

D - Dangerous - how scary they can get? How bad things can they do? What’s their ethics?

When Jason is mad it's better to stay away and let him deal with it. Anger is not an unknown emotion to him, but he truly prefers for you to not see him when he's about to rip someone's head.

His eyes turn blood red and his fangs come out, in this scenario his fully strength comes to light and he's not afraid to use it. Jason is an agile and stoic fighter, so you wouldn't know what happened before you're death.

He's capable of killing or injuring someone pretty fucking badly (or even dismembering if he's feeling playful)

E - Exchange - do they opt for blood bags or animal blood, if possible?

He prefers human blood as it is easier to get and tastes a little bit better as well. However, I think that in a life and death situation he wouldn't pay much attention to that detail.

F - First bite - on what occasion would they bite you for the first time?

Jason is really unsure weather biting you is a good thing or not, he doesn't want to put you in pain and he's really sure a small bite will lead to him sucking your blood. He tries really hard to avoid biting you.

The only way Jason will bite you if he's starving really bad. He would just go where you are and bite down on your arm without much care

Jason is too hungry to be polite and after you see part of his face covered in blood and a little grin because now he's not at the verge of dying, Jason will apologize for almost drying you.

G - Growl - are they more on the “civilized” side or do they enjoy hunting their prey down?

Jason absolutely loves haunting his prey, the thrill of the chase gives this man joy. He will do anything to make this situation enjoyable for himself, he doesn't care that much about the pray because, well, they're gonna die either way, right?

The only "prey" Jason is careful with is you. He still scares you in a joking way when he's about to suck your blood, but he doesn't torture you...

H - Hate - how do they feel about their kind? About themselves?

He feels like a monster in every way possible. It sickens him to the core the fact that he has to hurt you to be with you, he hates himself for all the horrible things he has done in the past.

It's an neverending torment, but Jason stills hope he can change.

I - Intimacy - how fast would they let you close to them? Would they want to share with you what they are?

It took you YEARS to get closer in an emotional level with this man and yet it's hard to understand him sometimes.

Jason is a complicated person, he believes that if someone gets close enough to him something bad will happen to them. That's the reason he tends to avoid you.

He told you the vampire part when you found him in a compromising position: Jason's entire face was covered in blood along side his hands.

He was standing next to a corpse, whipping away the blood from his chin as he licked it eagerly. It has been so long since he has eaten something, living with a human was surely a hard task.

"Oh shit..." he turned around at the sound of your voice, his panicked eyes meeting your scared ones. " Is that you J-jay?"

Jason took a few steps away from the corpse,spreading his arms fearfully."I can explain, babe..." he said slowly. This is the end, he fucked up and there's no way you can forgive him this time.

"Fuck!" He shouted when you fainted, speeding up to catch you. Jason's fingers brushed your face lightly, smearing blood on your skin." Damn, I fucked up..."

J - Joke - would they do pranks on other people with the use of their powers?

You can bet you life he would.

His family is used to dealing with Jason's stupid pranks, so are the Outlaws. In fact, everyone who has a decent relationship with him will be a victim of his pranks.

L - Life - do they wish they were human?

Yes, that thought tends to cross his mind every time he sees the simple life the humans have or when you're asleep on top of him.

He knows your life is a lot shorter than his and it scares him to know you one day will die and leave him. Jason wants to spend his life with you for the eternity, maybe he will need to use other methods to make his wish come true.

K - Key - what’s the way of making them open up to you?

Acceptance, love and a lot of patience.

Jason feels like a burden every time you put se effort in trying to connect with him, however, it warms his heart since it's always a surprise when someone is kind and sweet towards him.

M - Murder - would they kill someone while feeding? Have they ever done so?

Jason has murdered people before, so yeah, but he usually tries to avoid drinking blood from criminals because you don't know where this people have been.

That why he prefers to buy some clean blood or just ask one of the people he trusts for some of theirs. But if the thing gets extremely bad, Jason is not opposed to just feed off a random civilian...

If Jason feeds of normal people, then he tries to be gentle and not suck them dry, even when he's starving really bad.

He once accidentally killed a civilian while feeding on his early vampire years. Jason didn't even asked them if it was okay if he drank some of their blood, he was beyond hungry and too altered to be polite...he still feels guilty of it.

N - Nature - do they justify their doings? Do they consider them natural?

Of course he doesn't! Jason thinks he's a freak, as well as the rest of his kind but maybe his way of thinking has to do with the fact that he wasn't born a vampire.

This is his new life so he has to keep up if he still wants to live. But there's no way someone can convince him that drinking blood, having sharp fangs, the ability to fly, among other weird things like being able to camouflage.

O - Odd - do they have any specific hobbies or habits?

Jason wanted the whole vampire aesthetic, so he learned how to sleep upside down as well as levitating. It's weird having a normal human day and then finding your boyfriend taking a nap in the rooftop.

But Jason has been trying to convince you to buy a coffin.

" You said you're tired of the footprints in the rooftop, if we had a coffin you wouldn't have to worry about that!" He says so confident it makes you roll your eyes ." Besides it would look dope."

He also as deployed a love for bloody milkshakes with extra whipped cream (he has been speeding too much time with Dick lately)

P - Pain - are they sadistic? Do they enjoy what they do?

Jason is not sadistic with you, he hates the thought of inflicting your pain on purpose. But if you're on the freaky side then you can convince him to be a little mean with you during the nasty, and even then Jason will always ask how you doing and if you want him to stop.

Taking that apart, he can be sadistic with the people he doesn't like. During fights Jason will mock them as he crushes them without blinking, what if he's confronting someone who harmed you? Well, Jason is gonna make that person feel pain ,he wants their suffering to last.

R - Roles - do they enjoy pretending to be normal people? How do they feel about leaving their life behind to start a new one?

He had to leave his life behind even if he wanted to, coming back from death is not a normal thing to do and it gets even weirder when you find out you're blood sucking creature.

Jason tries his best to pretend to be a normal human when you go out, he doesn't want to draw too much attention. It annoys him and he doesn't want you to be exposed to be uncomfortable.

S - Scars - do they leave marks or try to make the wounds small and invisible?

Jason doesn't understand why, but it makes him so happy to see his bite marks on your skin, for him they're like hickeys in a twisted way.

He also like to leave the normal hickeys when you're doing the dirty.

T - Turned - how were they turned?

(This apply more with this Arkham Knight version cuz yeah)

Jason was turned after a few days after being locked in Arkham. He remembers vaguely what happened since his mind was still off in that time.

Jason just knows he was in one of the many cells with one or two goonies of the Joker and high pitched voice of Harly complaining about the Joker leaving her alone.

Then Jason felt a sharp pain on his neck, blood running down his cleavage and staining part of shirt and the weird thought of "why is this taking so long?" That filled his mind.

Next thing he knew was that he had to feed of blood for the rest of the eternity.

U - Universe - what’s their biggest wish that they can’t achieve as immortals?

A decent mental stability and a good relationship with his family.

Jason has been through many things that he does not wish on anyone, the negative things he thinks about himself are embedded in his brain and it is difficult for him to ignore them sometimes.

As hard as he works to overcome all his insecurities and traumas, he feels that he will never be able to escape these demons. Still, he tries to be better...

Now, we all know that batfam is somewhat complex and no matter how much they support each other, there is always that tension present. Jason looks like he doesn't care, but that's a lie.

He cares about them even if it is hard for him to show it, and he wishes that the relationship they have was more stable and not so chaotic.

V - Vampire - would they turn you?

Yes and without hesitation if you were at the verge of dying or after he had a crisis because he became suddenly aware of the short lifespan humans have.

Jason can't bare the fact of living without you, it sickens him to think about the day of your death...he just can't let you go.

He doesn't care if it's selfish, he will transform you into a vampire so the two of you can be together for the eternity. Jason is aware he might feel extremely awful after, but again, he dosen't give a fuck as long as you're alive.

W - War - would they engage in fighting their own kind for the humanity’s sake?

Well, he goes out every night to fight crime...I guess that's a yes, but it has to be a really serious fight for him to fight against his own kind.

Y - Yandere - would they become dangerous to you (their lover)?

Jason can be pretty obsessive and extremely protective, he just wants you to be safe and that's sweet, but he can get suffocating really fast.

Because of this Jason doesn't hesitate about killing those who harmed you in cold blood, as well as keeping you safe from the horrible things the world has to offer.

Jason would not abuse you by any means, but if he has to scare you to make you understand why you have to be careful, then he will. However, it takes a lot for him to do that.

Z - Zombie - are they on their way to losing sanity?

Jason has made a lot of progress since the pit days, but I don't think it takes much to make this man go insane.

It's not gonna be a cute thing if he loses his mind. Jason would turn into a cold hearted man with prominent sadistic tendencies and little to no care about other people's lives. However, the last point is just for criminals, Jason still has a soft spot for those who can't protect themselves...he doesn't cross that line.

If he reach this point there's a big chance Jason will try to make you leave, since he doesn't want you to get in trouble OR in the other hand, he will basically make you stay with him even if you don't want to cuz he truly believes he's the only one in this world that can protect you.

Tag list @bathroom-sand @aterriblelangblr @simpery @strangerthings14 @jyarumu0619 @kellieriddle96 @adarksoul098 @rosethegothamhistorynerd @duckmylife18 @panic-attheplace @malfoys-demigod @darkraven1983 @magicisabluewish @hamdehlesmis @lucy-roo @lovelyartemisa @missmaskedwriter @c0-77 @ginevraxrogers @imagines-fluff-yandere-smut @shadygoateeprincess @nervousfandom @ghost-bitch @silverw19 @thegirlwholovesbooksblog @hecatemacbeth7 @unknowntoanyone @mistalli @screechingghostbananafarm @psych0crybaby @barnowl48 @waroncheer @lady-stirling @ghostly-ginger @greeknerd007 @la-femme-lupita @jasonsballsack @violettessuniverse @wondergal21 @pree-2003-blog @dreamxcollide @thirstiestpotato @magicalbeanie @dreamingforthosewholost

#vampire! Jason todd #vampire au #jason todd x reader #Jason todd imagine #jason Todd headcanon #jason todd #dc imagine #red Hood imagine #red Hood x reader

[ssfghfrrggf]

One More Time

Plot: a sort of alternate way the season finale could have gone? But it’s mostly just it’s own thing.

warnings: canon typical violence, kidnapping mention, A N G S T

@adamruz i’m doing my civic duty and tagging you in yet another one of my painful burzek fics (:

“Ruz! Don’t do anything stupid!” Kevin hisses, keeping his body pressed against the pillar shielding him from the fire being laid down against them, Jay is huddled next to him, and Adam’s pinned down behind another pillar a good 10 feet away; Kevin can see the wheels spinning in his friends head, like he’s calculating something, coming up with some stupid and recless plan. He knows the look, he knows Adam is about to do something monumentally stupid, but his best friend is to far away for him to stop him. He tries getting Adam’s attention again. “Ruz!”

Adam doesn’t respond, he’s still running through what ever stupid plan he has. 

“Ruzek!” Kevin tries again, and the only response he gets from his partner is a head shake. They’ve been at odds almost since the moment they found out Kim was missing. They even almost came to blows; this whole case has been hell, Kim being missing has been hell, for Adam especially. He’s still mad at him but the last thing he needs right now is for Adam to do something stupid and get himself killed. “Whatever you’re thinking, don't do it!”

“Wait for backup!” Jay adds, meeting Kevin’s gaze for a second. He’s scared for what Adam’s about to attempt too.

Adam tightens his grip on his gun.

“Don’t do it Ruz!” Jay shouts as more bullets spray against the pillar they’re sheltered behind.

“We have to save Kim.” Is Adam’s only response and then he stands up and ducks out from the safety of the pillar standing as a shield between him and the gun fire.

“Adam!” Kevin screams and tries to leap forward, but Jay catches him by the vest and holds him back as Adam goes down. He manages to get off one shot that takes out the guy who shot Adam before Jay yanks him back. “No! Ruz! No!”

Jay pokes around the pillar just long enough to lay down some return fire. Kevin tries to pull against his grip. He has to get to Adam, he has to save his partner, but Jay yanks him back once again.

“Kevin! Stop!” Jay shouts, his eyes are wide and scared, reflecting what Kevin is feeling. “We don’t need both of you shot! We need a plan!”

“We have to get him,” Kevin chokes looking over his shoulder at his partner. He’s ten feet away. Ten feet, laying in a growing puddle of blood. He feels sick and his mind is running at a million miles an hour. They have to help Adam.

“We will! But there’s no point in all three of us dying,” Jay says, shaking Kevin. “So we need a damn plan!”

Kevin swallows and nods his head.

“I’ll draw them out, you pick them off, got it?” Jay says evenly, glancing around the edge of the pillar for a split second and is instantly met with bullets whizzing past his head.

“How the hell are you going to do that?” Kevin demands.

“I’m going to let them see just enough of me that it entices them to shoot at me,” Jay replies, glancing around the corner again. “You get low, and they’ll be so busy paying attention to me so they won’t notice you.”

“Jay-”

“It’s the only move we’ve got, Kevin,” Jay replies sharply.

Kevin glances over at Adam, who’s not moving and then back at Jay. He doesn’t like the plan, but it’s the only one they have and it’s their best shot at saving Adam, he can even still be saved.

“We got Kim, we’re falling back to the safe zone,” Jay hesitates as Hailey’s voice comes over the radio.

“We got this,” Kevin reassures him.

Jay nods. “You ready?”

“Yes.” Kevin lowers himself to the floor and lays on his belly and very slowly and cautiously leans around the edge of the pillar as Jay steps out of the safety of their shield for a half a second. One of the guys across the parking garage shows themself to shoot at Jay, but Kevin pulls the trigger and takes him down before he can shoot Jay. The other guy opens fire just as Jay ducks back to safety.

“One more,” Jay says, gripping his gun, getting ready to step out of safety again.

“I’m ready when you are,” Kevin says, placing his finger on the trigger.

Jay nods and steps out of their cover once again. The other shooter  reveals himself for a second, but a second is all Kevin needs. He shoots the guy before he can get one shot off at Jay. Kevin doesn’t waste a second dropping his gun and clamoring to his feet. He half runs half stumbles across the floor and collapses on the floor next to Adam.

“Ruz!” Kevin chokes, lifting Adam’s head off the bloody ground with one hand and tearing open his vest with the other. There’s so much blood he can’t tell where it’s all coming from. “Ruz, Ruz you gotta wake up man, you gotta stay with me.”

“I’m sorry,” Adam mumbles around a mouthful of blood, but doesn’t open his eyes.

“What the hell were you thinking,” Kevin demands, adjusting his grip on his partner. “What the hell were you thinking!”

“I’m sorry,” Adam repeats, and he means it, from the very bottom of his heart, Kevin can tell he means it. And he knows he’s not just apologizing for what he just did. He’s apologizing for everything. “I couldn’t let anything happen to Kim or…”

“Don’t do that man,” Kevin begs, holding Adam upright and cradling him in his arms. He can feel Jay walk soberly up behind him, and he can hear him radio to dispatch that they have an officer down. “Don’t. Just hang in there okay? You’re going to be okay.”

“Or you…” Adam finishes before his head slumps forward against his bloody chest.

“No! Damn it Ruz, stay with me,” Kevin cries, rocking his partner, trying to shake him back awake, bring him back. The last real conversation they had had was them yelling at each other to go to hell and trying to punch each other in the face.

Jay doesn’t say anything, he stands silently next to Kevin and hangs his head.

***

Hailey hears Jay’s officer down call come in over the radio as she climbs up into the ambulance with Kim. She hesitates on the step leading into the back. She has a deep gut feeling that it’s Adam. He’s smart, he’s tough, he knows what he’s doing, but he gets stupid when it comes to things involving Kim.

“Where’s Adam?” Kim mumbles, drawing Hailey’s attention back to her and the ambulance and the current situation. Hailey switches off the radio and ducks inside the ambulance. If she’s right Kim doesn’t need to find out from radio chatter.

“He’s going to meet us at the hospital,” Hailey says, taking Kim’s hand. Brett is on her other side starting an IV. It’s not exactly a lie, it could be true, but saying it still hurts. Hailey’s chest aches

“I need to tell him something,” Kim adds and lifts her head off the stretcher. “Where is he?”

“He’s helping clean this mess up,” Hailey says, trying to sound comforting and reassuring, but she’s so unsure herself.

“But he’s always here,” Kim groans and lets her head fall back against the back onto the stretcher.

“Burgess, I need you to hold still,” Brett says gently, holding Kim’s arm against her body to steady it while she starts get the IV ready to go into her arm.

“I need Adam,” Kim insists, ignoring the paramedic. “Hailey-”

“He’ll meet us at the hospital, Kim,” Hailey promises, and tries to make herself believe it. She wishes she could unhear her partner’s call over the radio. He sounded sick and heart broken when he said it, and lost, lost like he didn’t know what to do or what to say.

Kim shakes her head miserably and tears start building in her eyes.

“Hey, shhh,” Hailey soothes and squeezes her hand. “He’ll be there Kim. You know that, he loves you.”

This seems to only make things worse because Kim starts crying harder.

***

She feels completely alone. At the very core of her being there's an empty pit opening up and swallowing her hole. She knows Hailey and Brett are with her, but it feels like there’s no one, Adam’s not there with her so she might as well be alone. She needs him. She needs him to wrap her in his strong arms and hold her against his chest so she can hear his heartbeat and she needs him to promise everything will be okay. But he’s not there with her, he’s always there. No matter what he’s always there, he’s the anchor that holds her in place and keeps her grounded even when everything seems to be falling apart around her. And right now everything is falling apart, the world is crumbling around her and he’s not there. She’s alone and being sucked into an empty pit of blackness.

She closes her eyes trying to stop the tears from coming, but it doesn’t help. She can feel Hailey squeeze her hand, but that somehow only makes things worse because it’s not Adam holding her hand. She wants to believe Hailey that Adam will meet them at the hospital, but she’s scared. Somethings wrong, she can tell. Hailey’s scared too, she recognizes the forced calm in her voice.

“Hailey, what happened,” she tries again to get the detective to tell her something.

“You’re safe, you’re on your way to med. Everything is going to be okay.”

Kim knows it’s a lie. How can everything be okay if Adam isn’t here?

***

At the hospital they take Kim straight back to an exam room, and Hailey has barely watched the stretcher disappear into a room before the hospital doors are opening and there’s another stretcher being rolled in with Adam laying on top of it dripping blood onto the floor. Jay and Kevin are walking right along with him. Kevin has blood smeared on his hands and face, and there are tears streaking down his face. And Jay just looks lost.

“37 year old male, multiple gunshot wounds, shocked once in transport,” the paramedic is announcing  as the stretcher gets passed off to the Dr. Choi and Dr. Marcel.

Hailey swallows hard and looks away.

“Hey,” Jay breathes and pulls her aside , so he’s blocking her view of Adam with his body.

“What happened?” Hailey asks, stepping back from him just a little. This whole case has thrown everything onto the rocks. Things are prickly between everyone. She loves Jay but she’s not ready to cling to him and cry into his arms. She’s not ready to let him hold her.

Jay looks a little hurt by her pull away from him, but the majority of the worry and pain in his eyes is not for her or because of her.

“He got stupid,” Jay says, and it comes out curt and a little harsh. “We got pinned down and he decided it was a good idea to try to rush the shooters. He didn’t have a damn plan.”

He sounds angry, but she knows it’s only because he cares.

Hailey nods slightly, but doesn’t say anything to her partner. Instead she leaves him to go check on Kevin who is standing in a dazed trance looking at something on the floor. As she gets closer to him, she realizes it’s blood.

“I told him to go to hell,” Kevin says quietly as she approaches him and rests her hand on his shoulder.

“Hey,” she says, trying to sound comforting. “He knows you didn’t mean it.”

“I told my best friend to go to hell,” Kevin repeats without looking up. “What was I thinking? He thinks I hate him… that’s the last thing he’s gonna think.”

“Kevin! Look at me!” Hailey says firmly, making him look up at her. “He knows you don’t hate him, okay? He knows that!”

It’s not entirely true. She’d been with Adam after his fight with Kevin, he’d been so angry and upset. He’d blamed himself for everything, for Kim getting kidnapped, for his fight with Kevin. He’d been convinced he messed everything up, betrayed his best friend and failed the love of his life. He’d said he ruined everything to try to save Kim and in the end he wasn’t even able to do that.

***

Kim knew Hailey was lying to her in the ambulance ride over, but at least during the ride over she could hope, but now she’s sitting in a hospital room, alone with no sign of Adam. She keeps expecting him to walk through the door, but he never does and at this point she’s convinced he won’t.

“Hey Burgess.” Trudy is the one to walk in as the door swings open. She looks tired, relieved to be seeing Kim, but tired.

“Where’s Adam?” Kim asks as the desk sergeant sits down next to her bed.

Trudy sighs and purses her lips. 

“Trudy, please,” Kim presses.

Trudy hesitates before finding her words. “Kim..” she says it with so much pity and sorrow that it feels like a kick to the stomach.

“No,” Kim chokes, shaking her head. She knows what’s about to be said, and it can’t be true, she refuses to believe it.

“Kim, he got shot,” Trudy continues softly.

“No,” Kim repeats, refusing to hear what she has to say next. He can’t die.

“Hey, they’re doing everything they can for him,” Trudy whispers, her voice cracking. Kim can see tears welling in her eyes. “He’s in good hands. He’s going to be okay.”

It’s all empty promises, hopeful lies meant to offer false reassurance. She can see it in Trudy’s eyes, he’s going to die. The police sergeant doesn’t believe what she’s just said.

‘He’s going to die, isn’t he?” Kim can feel her bottom lip quivering as she says and Trudy seems to melt, droop into this old tired woman who’s weary and lost in her fears too.

“Don’t do that, Kim,” she tries, but even the normally unwavering Trudy Platt can’t stop her voice from cracking.

“Isn’t he?” Kim repeats miserably, tears beginning to well in her eyes as she sits up, ignoring the pain from her movement. Nothing hurts more than the pain bursting open in her chest, nothing hurts more than the thought of losing Adam.

Trudy places a steady hand on Kim’s thigh and shakes her head. “I don’t know, Kim. I don’t know.”

It’s the most honest thing anyone has said to her since being found. Ever the promises that she’d be fine were lies, how can she be fine while Adam is dying? How can she ever be fine if he dies. He’s her constant, when she’s beaten and bruised, he’s there. When the world is spinning out of control, he’s there. When she’s facing devastating loss, he’s there. She can’t imagine climbing the mountains life has thrown at her without him. She can’t imagine her life without him, she doesn’t even want to try. She doesn’t ever want to live without him.

“He can’t die,” Kim says hopelessly looking into Trudy’s tears stained gaze.

“Come here,” Trudy chokes and wraps her arms around Kim in a tight tug, holding her close to her body. “Come here.”

***

“What the hell happened?” Voight demands, marching into the waiting room and rapidly approaching Atwater and Halstead who are standing in a corner talking in hushed tones with their backs to the room. Hailey is sitting close to them, but she’s staring into space and doesn’t say anything or even look up as Hank approaches the small part of his unit that’s left standing. Jay and Kevin both turn slowly to face him. They’re exhausted and their gazes are dull and spacy; they’ve been run ragged by the case, and a pang of guilt flares up inside of him as he really takes in the appearance of his team.

Jay sighs and straightens up his slumped shoulders, and Hailey finally looks up, but keeps her chin resting on her hand. 

“Kim’s beat up, but physically she’ll be fine,” Jay says and glances at Kevin, who looks at the floor. The detective looks angry, and something passes through his gaze settling in like storm clouds on the horizon. “Ruz took two to the chest and one to the stomach. Where the hell were you?”

Hank’s first instinct is to fight the challenge from his most senior detective, but Hailey steps between them and makes him take a second to rethink.

“Not here, Jay,” she warns, putting one hand on her partner’s chest. She knows where he was, or at least has a pretty good guess, Hank is certain of that much. One of the guys who took Kim had rabbeted; Hank went after him.

“No, I wanna know where he was!” Jay shouts, righteous anger filling his voice. The weight of everything seems to finally be crashing down on top of him and breaking his floodwalls. “We got pinned down, Ruzek got shot three damn times, you got Kim out with patrol. Where the hell was he!”

“Jay,” Hailey says quietly and shakes her head.

The detective nods his head, glaring out at Voight; he seems to be putting together all the pieces as he keeps his gaze locked with Hank’s. “Unbelievable.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Hank challenges. He knows exactly what it means, and exactly what Jay is thinking, and he’s right.

“You executed your revenge fantasy. You left and opened this unit up to further harm so you could carry out your perception of justice, and Adam got shot!” Jay shouts, pushing against Hailey.

“He had to pay!” Voight shouts back, losing his cool.

“And he would’ve!” Jay shouts  louder.

“He murdered children, he beat Kim, do you get that?”

“That doesn’t mean you can murder him,” Jay says dangerously, and one hand falls to the hand cuff tucked into his belt. “It’s horrible and evil, but that doesn’t mean you can leave, put us at risk and commit murder. When we cross that line we become no better than the people we work to put away.”

***

“How’s she doing?” Kevin asks, shuffling into  Kim’s hospital room. She’s asleep, but Trudy is sitting up in a chair next to her flipping through a magazine. After Jay and Voight decided to take their argument to the roof and Will telling him and Hailey it’ll be another couple hours before they know how Adam’s surgery went he decided to move on to Kim’s room to check in on her and wait for news there.

“She’s hurting and scared for Adam,” Trudy says quietly, setting her magazine down on her lap. She gestures to a chair in the corner. “Pull a chair up and have a seat.”

He sighs and does as he’s told. It feels like it’s been an eternity since he’s sat down, and finally taking the weight off his legs makes him realize just how heavy he felt.

“I feel like I messed up,” Kevin finally says after a long time of sitting in silence and looks up at Platt who sets down her magazine again. She doesn’t say anything, just waits patiently for him to elaborate. “We fought.”

Trudy nods. He knows she knows this, she was there.

“I don’t regret standing my ground or taking the side I did. I’d do it again, I just…” He trails off. “Ruz is my best friend and he got shot, and I can’t help but wonder if he was trying to prove something.”

“Prove what?” Trudy asks, leaning back in her chair.

“I don’t know, that he’d still have my back, and still risk his life for me,” Kevin says slowly, letting his gaze fall to the floor. He can’t help but feel like maybe he made Adam feel like what he did was something he had to do to prove himself. “But I didn’t need him to do that. He should’ve known that. I should’ve made sure he knew I still trusted him with my life.”

“It’s not your fault Kevin,” Trudy says after contemplating his words for a couple seconds. “It’s not your fault he made the choice he did, and I think he would’ve made it regardless.”

Kevin shakes his head, he can feel tears welling in his eyes. “I just don’t want him to die, Platt.”

The desk sergeant looks like she’s about to say more, but Kim moans softly next to her and flinches and stops her from saying what ever she was about to say.

“Hey, Burgess,” Kevin says and scoots closer to his old partner’s bed. He rests his hand on top of hers to let her know he’s there.

She blinks her eyes open slowly, and looks up at him. Her gaze is pained and haunted like she’s seen a ghost.

“Hey, are you okay?” Kevin asks scooting a little closer to her.

She shakes her head. “Adam…”

Kevin glances at Trudy for a second before looking back to his old partner. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

Kim shakes her head again. “I had a dream,” she says with chilling calm, and her tone is that of someone lost and broken, or maybe someone who has lost something. She swallows hard,  “He died.”

“Hey, he’s not gonna die,” Kevin promises, but she doesn’t look convinced, and in all truth, he’s not convinced of what he just said either. He’s still not even sure how Adam survived the trip to the hospital. He’d lost more blood than Kevin even thought was humanly possible; there was so much of it making a pool on the ground around his body, soaking into the knees of Kevin’s pants, staining his hands as he desperately tried in vain to stop it or even slow it down- Kevin closes his eyes and lets out a slow breath trying to shake the memory, but he can’t. He can remember it, feel it even, so clearly and it won’t go away. The hot stickiness of Adam’s blood as it pushed against his hands and soaked into his own clothes and made them stick to his skin. How cold his hand was when Kevin grabbed it in the ambulance, how white his skin was.

“Kevin,” Trudy’s stern voice cuts through his unwanted memories and brings him back to reality.

“Sorry,” Kevin chokes, shaking himself, and when he looks back at Kim  she’s looking at him like she knows exactly what was running through his mind.

***

Hailey follows Hank and Jay into Kim’s hospital room. Neither of them say a word and she doesn’t ask them for the details of whatever conversation they’ve just had. Hank looks like he’s just been yelling, but Jay looks unruffled, just grim. She can only imagine what was being said, Hank had all but confessed to murdering the guy responsible for kidnapping Kim, and Jay had openly accused him of doing just that.

“How are you holding up, Burgess?” Voight asks gruffly as he comes to a standstill at the foot of her bed. His face betraying nothing about what was said between him and Jay after they left to talk privately on the roof.

Kim glances around at all of them. “I’m fine.”

She doesn’t say anything about how scared she is for Adam, but Hailey can tell she’s terrified. She knows exactly what she’s feeling.

“Good, good,” Hank says and rests one hand on her leg.

Jay clears his throat and crosses his arms over his chest expectantly. Hank ducks his head. Hailey frowns and studies both of them, she’s never seen duck at someone else’s authority, especially not someone he outranks, but she can feel the shift between the two of them. Jay seems to be standing just a little taller, and Hank seems like he’s sunk somehow. It’s like there was some fight on that roof and Jay not only won, but somehow managed to surpass their leader.

“I have news guys,” Hank says, and Kevin cocks an eyebrow and looks to Jay who gives him a subtle curt nod. “I’m resigning from the CPD.”

Kim and Trudy both look stunned, Kevin doesn’t look surprised in the least, and Jay looks relieved. Hailey had been expecting something dramatic, but this wasn’t exactly this.

“Hank, why?” Trudy asks.

“It’s time,” he replies curtly, and side eyes Jay.

“Jay, can we talk?” Hailey asks, grabbing her partner and pulling him out into the hallway before he can respond or argue. 

“What did you do?” she demands as soon as they’re out of ear shot from Kim’s room. She knows Voight didn’t come to this decision on his own.

“I gave him a choice,” Jay says confidently. There’s zero conflict in his voice about whatever conversation he had with Voight. “We both know what he was doing. He murdered that guy and he put the unti at risk while he was at it. So I told him he either resigns and let him do it with some dignity, or I bring him up on murder charges.”

Hailey raises both her eyebrows in shock. “You really did that?”

“He crossed a line, Hailey,” Jay replies evenly. “And it wasn’t the first time. I’m not letting him get away scott free this time.”

***

It’s late when Marcel finally walks into Kim’s hospital room to deliver the news on Adam’s condition, and it’s just her and Trudy. So much has been happening Kim almost wishes he’d wait just so she can catch up and process her world spinning out of control before something else is thrown at her, but more than that she needs to know whether Adam will be okay.

“He made it through surgery,” the surgeon reports, his tone is gentle and comforting. “He’s not out of the woods yet, and he’s got a rough road to recovery ahead of him, but he’s stable.”

Kim lets out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding and lets herself fall back against her pillow, relief flooding over her in waves and lifting the tiniest amount of weight off her chest. He’s not out of the woods yet, but he’s made it this far. He has a good fighting chance now; she might not lose him after all.

“Can I go see him?” She asks shifting in bed so she’s sitting up again.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Marcel says hesitantly. “You still need rest and take time to heal-”

“I’m fine,” Kim says firmly without missing a beat. Her body still aches, but comparatively she’s fine, she didn’t get shot. “He can’t wake up alone. I need to be there for him. He needs to know I’m okay when he wakes up.”

She knows Adam, she knows the way his mind works, and she has a pretty good idea of how he handled things while she was kidnapped. She needs to be there for him when he wakes up to promise him she’s okay. Not only that but she needs to see him, she needs to be there with him to see for herself that he’s going to be okay. She doesn’t care if she’s still hurting, she needs to see him. She needs him.

“Kim-”

“Please,” she pleads.

Marcel sighs and slumps his shoulders. “Okay, fine, just until he wakes up and then you need to come back here and rest.”

“Thank you,” Kim breathes, managing to relax ever so slightly. Just the thought of being allowed to be close to him makes her feel better. She’s so used to him being right there next to her everytime she needs him, he just always seems to know, like it’s his sixth sense, but this time she’s going to be there for him.

Adam’s room is quiet, too quiet; Adam is still, too still, still like he’s barely clinging to life, like he might slip away at any moment.

“I’m right here,” Kim whispers as she eases herself into the chair next to his bed and takes his hand in hers. It’s really the only thing she can think to say. She’s there and she’s not going anywhere. It doesn’t matter how long it takes him to wake up, she’s going to be there waiting for him when he comes back to her. His fingers twitch a little as she wraps her other hand around his so it’s clasped between both her hands, but other than that he doesn’t stir. He remains still and quiet.

“You’re not supposed to be the one to get hurt,” she says quietly, it seems wrong to interrupt the quiet of the room by raising her voice above a whisper, so she keeps it low. “You’ve gotta stay safe for me and Makayla, because we both know I’m apparently incapable of doing that. Adam, I need you.” She’s not sure he can hear her, but she hopes he can, and that hope is enough to keep her talking. Maybe her words will bring him back to her, give him something to cling to the way his words always did for her. “Come back to me. Please. I don’t want to do this without you.”

She can feel tears stinging her eyes as she lifts his hand to her lips; it hurts. Deep down in her chest it hurts seeing him like this, so still and quiet. She’s not exactly sure what it's like to feel her heart break, but she’s pretty sure this feeling like her chest is being crushed and the lump in her throat she can’t swallow is pretty close to it. The sound of weak shallow breaths claws at her like nothing she’s ever felt before, it hurts. It hurts worse than all the times she’s been kicked, beaten, and shot. She’s only felt this hollow aching pain once before, and that was after the miscarrage, but even then she had Adam there with her to help fill the emptiness left behind, to remind her she wasn’t alone. But now he’s the reason for that hollow pit inside of her. The one person who she needs to promise her everything will be okay, is the one person who can’t do it.

“I’m sorry,” she finally says, finding her voice again through the lump in the back of her throat. And it conveys everything she needs to say to him all at once. “I’m sorry for everything.”

She spent so much time pushing him away, fighting him everytime he tried to get close to her, but he never gave up. He kept coming back, kept trying, and she kept pushing, but now she’s done pushing. Now she’s trying to pull him back to her, cling to him and keep with her, but for the first time he just seems to be drifting away. He seems to be leaving her.

“I’m sorry I pushed you away from me,” she chokes, kissing his hand. She’s not a doctor but even she knows the numbers on the heart monitor next to him are lower than they should be, and they’ve gotten lower since she first came into the room. He’s slipping. “I’m sorry, please stay with me. Come back to me one more time. Just one more time. Please.”

She rests her head on the bed next to him so he can feel her next to him.

“I’m right here,” she promises one last time.

***

Kim wakes up to gentle fingers combing through her hair. She lifts her head and discovers Adam looking at her, with his head tilted in her direction; the smile on his face is weak and dazed, but it’s a smile, and she can tell from the glint in his tired eyes that it’s genuine.

“Didn’t mean to wake you up,” he mumbles, struggling to get the words.

“No, I’m glad you did,” she breathes, tears welling in her eyes again. She hadn’t realized she’d fallen asleep, and frankly at the moment she’s not convinced she’s not dreaming.

“Hey, don’t cry,” Adam wheezes and brushes her cheek with his hand. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She’s supposed to be the one comforting him, not the other way around. He’s the one who got shot and almost died, not her, but here she is, terrified, and him yet again being the one to comfort her.

“They told me you got shot,” she chokes, the tears spilling down her cheeks. “I thought you were gonna die. I thought I was going to lose you.”

“Kim, I’m not going anywhere, ever, I promise,” Adam says, firmer this time. “I’m always going to be here for you.”

Kim nods through her tears. “I just-”

“It’s okay,” Adam promises and with all the tenderness in the world, pulls her close to him as she begins to cry harder. “I’m okay Kim. I promise”

She can feel him relax as her head rests against his chest, and he lets out a sigh that can only be described as one of relief, like he’s letting his own worries go as he helps her let go of hers. She squeezes her eyes closed as she keeps her head leaned against his chest and soaks in his presence and the warmth of his body.

“I’m sorry,” Kim says aloud for him to hear this time.

“Don’t do that,” Adam soothes.

“No, Adam I’m sorry,” she says and lifts her head so she’s looking into his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’ve spent so much time pushing you away, and then I almost lost you, and I can’t lose you. I don’t ever want to live without you. Adam, I love you.”

“Kim…” Adam looks surprised, not a bad kind of surprised, not even a disbelieving kind of surprised, just surprised like he wasn’t expecting her to say that.

“I love you Adam,” she says with more emphasis this time.

And now it’s his turn to start crying. His tears come from nowhere and spill down his cheeks, and before Kim knows it he’s sitting up and wrapping his arms around her.

“I love you too,” he chokes out, burying his face in her shoulder. “I was so scared, Kim. I was so scared, I thought I wasn’t going to be able to find you. Nothing else mattered. I love you so much, Kim.”

He melts into her arms and clings to her like his life depends on it. Kim wraps her arms around him and leans her head against his. Her body hurts and aches from the beating she received, and she’s sure Adam’s hurting too, but it’s all just physical, just superficial, and she doesn’t mind it at all because she’s close to Adam and nothing else matters. He’s okay, he is going to be okay, they are going to be okay.

#chicago pd fic #cpd fic #burzek #upstead #burzek fic #adam ruzek #kim burgess #kevin atwater #jay halstead #hailey upton #hank voight #trudy platt

[internalsealpanic]

All That Glitters

Summary: Pandora’s box is a black box covered in silk and embossed with the initials R.S.

a/n: So uh this work is a follow up to my fic Better Die than Doubt but it can be read as a stand alone. This thing resulted from the combined might of  @knightfall05x,  @lucy-roo​, and my thirst. I said the follow up to that fic would be fluffy. The chronological follow up will come out at some point. I  just have a single braincell and it decided it wanted to write more Black Mask being an absolute bastard. Thanks to those two hoes for enabling and proof reading. See you both in hell

warnings:  This is smut. I was being haunted. This work contains noncon, past noncon, violence, Roman being an asshole, daddy kink, size kink, strength kink (if you squint ), yandere themes, stalking, exhibitionism, a dude who cannot take no for  an answer and choking.  

masterlist

“Hey Jay,” You chirp into the phone, maneuvering it over your shoulder carefully so you wouldn't drop it while you held your soda can at an arm's length away from you hoping it wouldn’t explode on you when you attempt to open it. 

 “Hey, sweet-” You blow out a raspberry halting the correction in its tracks. You can practically picture Jason’s mouth swerve into an odd shape caught between proceeding with his correction or backtracking.  He chose neither. You hear him swear viciously. You snort making him huff. 

 “What’s up, asshat?” He asks, endearingly. You can pretty much hear him rolling his eyes from this side of the world. You frown hearing how winded he sounded. 

 “Jay, if this is a bad time, I can-”

 “You’re fine it’s just a little-”

 “JAYBIRD, A LITTLE HELP WOULD BE NICE”

 “Roy sounds like he needs help. I can call back later.”

 “Roy can handle himself.”

 “Thanks for the confidence, Jaybird, but I think I’d prefer if you kept shooting straight.”

 You snort feeling warmth build up in your chest despite the chilly weather. You chirp delighted when you open the can and it doesn’t explode. You hear Jason chuckle. The smart remark he had on the edge of his tongue dies on his lips when your breath hitches audibly at the sound of his gun firing. Jason makes a noise, the kind you use to prompt someone to tell you if they’re ok without having to ask. You swallow and nod and curse remembering he can’t see you. You blow out a breath, making sure it comes out steady. 

 “Y/n...”

 “I’m-” You wanted to say fine but you knew the word fine was wholly inappropriate and untrue for this situation. “I’m gonna survive. I promise.” 

 Jason doesn’t make a sound of agreement or disagreement. He simply acknowledges it. You silently thank him for the neutrality. 

 “JAYBIRD”

 “SHUT UP, HARPER”

 You hear Kory sigh in exasperation somewhere in the distance.  In the background, you hear a shriek which you assume is from Jason. Then the line cuts out. 

You try to redial. 

 Nothing. 

 You try again.

 Nothing. 

 A laugh rips out of your chest. You cry out in pain, the fizzy drink rushing up your nose. You wince and curse and settle on blaming Jason.  You suspect they somehow broke the phone. You wouldn’t be too surprised by that outcome. You sigh but there was no point in complaining about it. You might as well finish your lunch in peace. 

   You chew on your cheek as you walk back to your cubicle, everyone’s eyes are on you. You feel your breathing pick up a fraction of a second faster. 

 One

 Two

 .

.

.

.

 Two

 Fuck

 You dig your nails into your palm. Your footfalls become heavier and a little louder even against the white noise around you. You slowdown and shake your head. You haven’t had an attack at work so far and you aren’t about to start now. You inhale deeply, letting your chest expand as you run through the things Dinah taught you.  

 Take stock of the situation around you. 

 The world around you was buzzing with life-shuffling papers, ringing phones, humming of machines, and blips of voices here and there. The room is bright and clean under the light of sterile fluorescent lights. You take in all the voices around you. You’re not alone. The knot building in your shoulders loosens. You continue. 

 Take stock of your body. 

 Your body is trembling, the beginnings of a panic attack looming over you. Instead of cursing it, you let it. It was only natural to relapse once in a while. The trauma wasn’t fresh. Not in your opinion, at least. Dinah and, apparently, everyone else had a different opinion. You’re good at being ok but you were human. You let out a  long breath, half-tempted to let your eyes slide shut but you’re afraid of finding yourself in that room again, of seeing him, of feeling him on you. Revulsion spasmed in your body in powerful waves. Sure, you’re a showboat, Jay had said as much, but showing off and causing a scene were two entirely different things and you weren’t entirely sure you could endure the looks of pity from your coworkers every time you came through those doors. 

 Stiffly, you walk towards your cubicle. Your neighbor, Chelsea, smiling conspiratorially at you while your manager glares daggers at you. You raise an eyebrow at Chelsea who waggles her eyebrows in return.   

 “This is how you tell me I got fired?” You sigh, a smile twitching at the corners of your mouth. 

 Chelsea rolls her eyes at you. “Nope, but the boss man did want me to tell you to tell your boyfriend that he really shouldn’t be sending you gifts at work but honestly, I …...” Your brows knit in confusion, cold dread licking at the pit of your stomach. 

 “I don’t have a boyfriend.” You say slowly trying to keep the mounting panic out of your voice. You could hear your blood pulsating in your ears, heart threatening to jump out of your chest. Your feet are itching for you to run outside and call Jason or Dinah or anyone but the stupider part of you- the curious part of you was clawing at your mind to proceed. 

“Y/n, are- are you ok?” You blink and look at the clock. Two minutes. You blacked out for two minutes which, if you were being totally honest, was a huge improvement. 

 “Yeah. I’m fine.”

 “If you say so” She shrugs, her eyes still not pulling away from you.  

 Mechanically, you turn to your desk. Your entire being freezes when your eyes land on the black box sitting on the desk and the large bouquet of red roses sitting next to it.  The box was rectangular, black with silver trimmings embossed on it. Large ‘R.S.’ written in fancy lettering at the bottom right corner of the lid. You wanted to vomit. 

 You draw a breath and flex your fingers. You can feel your teeth digging into your cheeks. 

 “Hey, Chel?”

 “Yeah?”

 “Can I borrow some tissues?” You ask your voice barely above a whisper but still miraculously steady. She frowns at your handing you a couple of tissues. Normally, you keep your vigilante habits out of your civilian life but considering the initials embossed on this obnoxiously expensive-looking box sitting on your desk, you think this level of paranoia is justified. 

 You stop to calculate the odds that the box contained explosives which turns up zero. You sigh but a shiver climbs up your spine when you run through the possibilities of what Roman could have thought of as a gift. 

 “Y/n, what the fuck?” If Chelsea wasn’t watching you before, she was now. You glance at her quickly and give her a weak smile. You swallow the lump forming in your throat. Cautiously, you lift the lid quietly regretting not calculating the possibility of anything toxic being in it. You’re honestly surprised nothing happened. You roll your eyes upon seeing the expensive-looking black silk covering the inside.

Yes, rub your money in my face while you scare me shitless why don’t you, you fucking asshole, you think grumpily peeling the fabric away. 

 Your heart comes to a full stop when you’re met with a pair of lacy lingerie. Your lacy lingerie. Your USED lacy lingerie. You blink trying not to focus on the white stains. You sincerely did not want to think about that. Moving them aside you find a bloody shirt, the sound of its shifting fabric making gooseflesh spread all over your body. 

 You recognize it. You didn’t want to, but here it was. The bloodstains were dry but they were still visible even against the dark fabric of the shirt. Your skin prickles where the scars on your body sit. The knife wounds sting and throb as if freshly cut.  It takes everything in you not to vomit.

  It was probably the single-minded curiosity that kept you going. You maneuver the shirt carefully making sure it makes as little sound as possible.  Underneath it is a collar, simple but clearly expensive leather with the tag R.S. glittering under the sterile lights. Your throat constricts. You tear your gaze away. Your eyes sting. Next to it was a stack of photos. The top photo showed you with your, shirt torn exposing your breasts. Someone was inside you, gripping your hips. You gag.  You reign your mind in. You flip the stack over and gather your breath. Your heart stops again when you see Roman’s familiar handwriting on the back of a photo.   

 “Miss me?”

The drive back to your apartment was a blur consisting of what was most likely several severe traffic violations but you needed- you need to get out of town as quickly as possible. The odds of Roman himself showing up to your little town was low, very low. Not that you’ve actually calculated it. You don’t need to. The man walks around like his feet bless every surface they touch. The man has a loaded god complex the size of Russia to put it generously. Fetching you was simply beneath him. He had henchmen for a reason after all. 

 You wave to your landlady and her husband amiably as you walk past them keeping the nervous thrum out of your movement. Your landlady returns the gesture, elbowing her sneering husband. You know what he thinks of you and your habits. Take a few guys home with you and suddenly you’re a slut. Your promiscuity was none of his fucking business. Your body was yours to do with, to give, and to take back. It was yours. It’s yours, you assure yourself but the feeling of your body and mind hanging loosely off of each other feels painfully vivid at the moment. 

 You shake your head. This wasn’t the best time to sort out your hang-ups.  

 You press your ear to your apartment door then remembered just how thick it was and remembered that you didn’t exactly have super hearing. You sigh. What you would give to be Supes right about now. You enter the apartment careful not to make your steps audible. That, however, was rendered moot by the two very large and blocky men standing in your living room. You exhale both in frustration and relief. If Roman Fucking Sionis thinks he can scare you with two meatheads, he was clearly insulting you. Well, at least, he didn’t hire anyone actually competent considering all your gear was in a duffle bag tucked neatly away under your bed. Yanno, just for this sort of eventuality. Now that you think about it. You really should have just kept it in your car but small-town crime seems to have softened you. 

 You smile letting the irritation mold you into something sharp and venomous. You throw the box at one of the henchmen goading them to attack you. Its contents scattering all over the floor. You can’t bring yourself to care that some of the photos land right side up. 

 “Tell your chicken shit of a boss to come scare me himself,” You laugh, manic relief flooding through you. You feel like you’re going mad but you don’t care. It’s so much more feasible to deal with these men than it is to have to even think about Roman. “He doesn’t even have the balls to-”

 “Well, it’s nice to see you too, Sweetheart.” comes a gravelly voice from the bedroom. Your stomach drops. Roman strides out of your bedroom adjusting the cuff link of his obnoxiously expensive suit.  He looks down to the photos and gifts scattered on the ground, frowning he bends down to pick up the collar, dusting it off and stuffing it in his pocket. 

 Your fight or flight response freezes. You back into the door, the material feeling too solid for the moment. You inhale sharply, only managing short shallow breaths as Roman slowly closes the distance between you. His footfalls loud, heavy, and deliberately casual making your blood thrum. 

 No. No. No. 

 Your eyes flicker wildly around the room looking for any weapon within reach, your mind running through the numbers, the probabilities melding together into incoherent blotches of red in the back of your skull. Roman slams his large hands on either side of your head. The impact makes the door creak. You can’t stop yourself from flinching visibly, surprise and fear carving themselves on to your face. Roman barks out a derisive laugh as he trails a leather-clad finger down your chin, your throat, then to your cleavage. The contact against your bare skin makes you bristle. 

 “This here?” He emphasizes, his fingers playing with the top button of your shirt popping it carelessly revealing your baby pink, lace bra hidden beneath. “This is a little low cut for the office, isn’t it, princess?”  

 Annoyance overwhelms your sense of self-preservation. “I’m not about to take fashion advice from a guy who looks like he watches Scar Face daily.” You snipe, teeth bared.  Roman hums the undercurrent of rage filling the air. Your ribs ache, remembering an old injury. Your mouth slams shut cutting off any other snide remarks. 

 “You wear these clothes to wind me up, don’t you?” Roman drawls, his leather-clad fingers tracing up the expanse of your thigh exposed by the slit of your skirt, bunching up the skirt and playing with the waistband of your thong as he does so. His thumbs pressing circles against your inner thigh, you can’t help but quiver under his touch. “Oh the fun hasn’t even started yet...just wait”, he bites your ear lobe and tugs it between his teeth. He pulls back and glares at you. “Do you want to know how I found you in this dead-end town, princess?” He asks tilting your chin with his gloved hand. You shake your head not really interested at the moment. You’re too distracted by how flush your body was getting as he presses you further into the door with his bulk. You note with disgust the arousal suffusing through your limbs. 

 “You were all over the news, sweetheart,” You’re trying to remember what he could possibly be talking about. He leans in closer, leather-clad hand brushing against his thumb against your bottom lip, your lips parting automatically for him. He places his gloved thumb between your parted lips. “Did you really think I wouldn’t recognize that goofy smile of yours?”  You shiver lips wrapping around the intruding digit.  Your tongue flicks and swirls around it in a practiced gesture. “Good girl.” Roman hums, a grin spreading across his face while thick shame blankets you. You frown at how familiar the taste of the glove is against your tongue. You push your thoughts away wishing your mind would fall away. 

 “Baby,” He draws his hand away from your lips, wiping the thin string of saliva on your face. His hands glide down the sides of your body. “Did you really think I wouldn’t recognize these hips?” His hands grab at your hips roughly, lifting you and pulling them flush against his own. “Baby. I know what’s mine and this time I won’t let you get away from me.” He whispers against your neck, voice husky and rough. You swallow feeling his lips brush against your pulse. 

 Roughly, he wedges a thigh between your legs, the friction against your core making you keen. The friction woke something in you and loosened a few other things. Your hips roll desperately against the thick muscle of his thighs. Roman grins against your neck,  loosening his grip on your hips and letting you fuck yourself on his thigh. You will yourself to stop but the heat twisting in your gut is too much. You hate yourself. You well and truly hate yourself. Your cheeks warm, breath coming out in pants. 

 Roman places a kiss on your collarbone, teeth grazing your sensitive flesh. Your tongue is caught between your teeth to hold back a moan but the shiver spreading throughout your body says it too loudly. Roman chuckles, vibrations deep within his chest making you weak. Roman licks a stripe up your neck, planting kisses and hickeys along your jaw. “God, you taste sweet, princess.” He murmurs hot against your neck, the smirk dripping from his voice. It feels like acid against your skin. 

 He guides your pliant arms to loop around his shoulders. You obey soundlessly, tipping your head back giving him room to ravish your neck. He does with unbridled enthusiasm. You feel trapped in your own body. You don’t want this. You want to push him away but the fear coursing through you leaves you a passenger in your own body. Your breath hitches with each bite and kiss. 

 “Mine.” He rumbles resolutely, sliding the cloth of your top placing a bite on your shoulder. It stings without even looking, you know it’s deep. 

 “No” You whisper, low and unsure. 

 “No?” He challenges pulling away from your shoulder. 

 “No” You echo voice frustratingly unsteady. He sneers down at you, smile condescending. A biting rebellious part of you demands that you snarl and spit something brisque and witty at him but it’s pushed down by something viscous filling your chest. How are you drowning and why are you not dead yet?

 Just let it pass, your mind whispers to itself. Just let him get his fill and he’ll be on his way. You don’t even have to get hurt. You sincerely want to believe this. You just want this to not happen. The thought of it summons a wave of nausea deep within you. Tears well up in the corner of your eyes. You blink rapidly chasing them away. He likes it when you cry. 

 “Baby, you can’t tell me you don’t want this,” He emphasizes, pressing his thigh against your sopping pussy. The pressure makes you whine.  “Not when you’re being all cute and fucking yourself on my thigh like the dirty slut you are.”

 No. No. No.

 Rat-tat. 

 You will your hips to stop their movement but they’re too lost in their momentum. Your eyes flicker to Roman’s men, large eyes pleading. They stand stiffly doing their best to ignore you. They’re doing a damn fine job of it. 

 “Oh they won’t do anything, they’re here to watch,” Roman whispers hotly against your ear.  Your eyes flicker to them again. Your breath catching when your eyes meet one of theirs, seeing not an ounce of pity. You shove the bile rising in your throat and the quirk on their lips deep somewhere else, somewhere away from you.   

 You try to squirm away but Roman’s arm presses into your windpipe pinning you in place. You thrash and kick and hiss but your head feels light. You hear fabric shift and you still. The sound of the zipper is too loud and too real.  

Roman takes your lips in a forceful kiss making you gasp. His tongue forces its way into your mouth.  He releases your neck. You feel his fingers trail up the slits of your skirt. You try to focus on them rather than what’s pressing stiffly against your inner thigh. The fabric of your skirt bunch up by your hips. You feel your panties getting pushed aside by large fingers. You whimper again, clawing at the expensive fabric of Roman’s suit. “Please don’t do this.” You plead breathily against his ear. 

 He laughs, voice gravelly and harsh. Without further warning or preparation or ceremony, Roman shoves himself inside your warmth, pushing you further into the door. You gasp, the burning stretch making your body tremble all over. He bottomed out with a loud groan. You wanted to cover your ears or have your mind fall out of your reach but here it was painfully present along with your frozen body. He’s loud, groaning and panting as he fucks into you. He thrusts into you with wild abandon, hips clashing against each other with bruising intensity. You can feel his cock dragging in and out of you, hitting every spot violently. He wants this to hurt. You hope it would too. 

 Your cheeks burn with how your walls spasm around his cock. You want to push him away, to take him out of you but it feels so good. You try to smother the lewd sounds you make into his shirt.  Roman’s hands squeeze tightly around your waist in warning. “Yeah, that's it, baby. Let daddy know how much you want this.” You don’t protest. Instead, you let your mouth hang open and let the lewd mewls and keens tumble out. He drills into you more violently seemingly spurred on by your sounds. 

 You come with a whimper. You want to bury yourself in a hole. He comes not long after still fucking into you as he does, making sure your pussy takes all of his cum.  

 He pulls out of you, the slick sound of it absolutely sinful. Your body is slack against the door, too drained to hold itself up.  Roman pulls back, grinning down at you and whistling appreciatively as he admires his work. “Let’s dress you back up, sweetheart.” Roman coos locking something around your neck.  You don’t need to look down to know what he’s put there. The cool metal of the R.S. hanging off the collar presses stark against your hot sensitive skin.

 “You look sooo much better like this,” Blearily you look past him. Your duffle bag is already in the arms of one of his men. He grabs your face roughly making you look him in the eyes. “All mine- just as you should be.” 

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

Thanks for reading! I swear I will do more fluff in the near future. I just needed this out of my system. 

Tag list:  @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes,  @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-horizon11, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell

#yandere blackmask #yandere dc #yandere roman sionis #reader insert #dc reader insert #warning: smut #dc smut #black mask x reader #roman sionis x reader #yandere roman sionis x reader #my writing

[strawberry-lemonade]

Funniest things I’ve said(in my opinion):

to my dad:

-that’s some.. ✨spicy✨ depression u got there

-*in response to “im looking for something straight”* u sure u got the right person for that??

-what the mcfudge-nuggets is a city tiddy and why does that name exist

-if i ask to borrow something, first of all I’m not asking, and second of all it’s not borrowing, cuz ur never getting it back

-*ahem* holy hexagon i thought u were a good driver what was that??

-that wasnt very gucci flipflops of you! u mad bro???

-father i require the cotton things^ from the big magic box*. the blood monster• hath returned. (^pads, *store, •period)

-i did a thing that i did not need to do which means that the other thing that i do need to do has not been thinged however i would like to do another thing so i will do that thing and continue to not do the original thing that needs to be thinged.

to my brothers:

-what the mcfuck is up you mcfucking whore

-add me back bitch

-*in response to “ur younger than me don’t ‘awe’ me”* id advise u to not get your hopes up

-one day im gonna get married to a tree for tax benefits and im gonna forcefully make you my maid of honor 💕

-u gucci????????

-i dont think dad made a very good choice in leaving the two of us home alone...

(my brother and i are the problem children and if i weren’t so good at covering tracks we both would probably be grounded for life.)

-are you stupid? like,, are you actually stupid??? That is the worst idea ever so obviously we are going to do it but know that you are a fucking idiot

-*somehow becomes my little brother’s official curser????*

(like he’ll be singing a song that i know and just before he gets to the part that says the f word he cuts off and looks to me and I’ll say ‘FUCK’ for him)

to my sisters:

-i know you’re straight and dont like girls but im bi and we have almost nothing in common and we need something to talk about so we’re gonna act like stereotypical high school girls and talk about boys all night.

-is this what being a >white< teenager is like??? We get to legally do illegal things because no one actually gives enough fucks to reprimand us for things that endanger both us and those around us????

-i think I’ll have another existential crisis, that sounds nice right now.

-jesus christ i think I’m normal now... that’s disgusting someone come drop me on my head again, i need another 14 years of trauma induced weird habits that freak my family out but impress my online friends

-jesus fucking christ i think I’ve fallen in love with more inanimate objects this is becoming an obsession do i need a doctor

to my friends:

-it gets ✨spicy✨

-Hello I See That You Have Followed Me And I Would Like To Ask If You Are Alright

-im in the middle of a pickup line battle with my friend and hes beating me 😭😭

-still got the pronouns right bitch (used they/them)

-okay i have ten bad ideas you have to fucking elaborate

-besides i wanna fight kids about whether cereal is soup

-DO YOU HAVE FRIENDS -yes- for some reason I don’t believe you

-I Mean My Father Just Pulled A Batman And Adopted Someone Because They Have My Brother’s Old Number

-i have been murdered -oh no- no it’s great life has no meaning anyways

-i defied the laws of physics *i just took a picture*

-do u wanna homo today

-oh good job on sleeping

-good night my yes homo bro

-jake peralta killed me T-T

-hey jay can i have a kiss? .. no homo tho

-hey wally u want in on the homo?

-jay come over here we need to homo

-*starts fake-dating someone that is literally named ketchup after fake-dramatically breaking up with s/o*

-As you can see, my detective skills are far superior to all of you.

-jay stop following me I’m breaking up with u

-As Drake would say, Peace in, you fucks.

-*brother dies* Ah. Peace has come to me once more.

-Did you have to kill him? Was my grandfather not enough for you?

-you murder-whore

-this is why i love you, you don’t discourage my homicidal tendencies

-hello i exist. I am not okay with it

-are you telling me not to stab someone right now because first of all how did you know and second of all why not

-fOUR DAYS_ that’s longer than I’ve been alive!!

-I’m gonna gay

-i just watched the music video for bang bang and no one can convince me that anyone in that video is heterosexual

-im a fucking narwhal

-they exist. I am legally required to pull a batman

-yA KNOW WHY HANDS ARE SO FUCKING SEXY TO ME?? I CANT DRAW THEM. AND I AM IN CRISIS

-why the frick frack knick knack slip slap mc mac and cheese are you so bad at taking care of yourself

-so anyways merry crisis eve eve

-and then i checked and was sorely disappointed that i dont annoy you but aNYWAYS

-*ostrich noises intensify*

-excuse me since when the fuck do i have a life

-*t-poses* AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH

-even pieces of trash need to breath tho so stop making me wheeze pls

-my dude i have nOODLE ARMS_ why do u think I’m noodle jr

-ur right! I make the rules and the rules are no rules except for one rule that’s not necessarily a rule but its still in the rule book of nonexistent rules to follow bc they’re rules and rules are rules my dude

#things ive said #this is #important af #to me at least lmao #anyways i might add on to this later #idk

[massivelycreepypineapple]

He Loves His Gimp

Request: Gynac Jensen anon here. Couldn't stop reading your work again and again. I just love it❤️ Hence came to you requesting another story. (Sorry🥺) Can you write one Jensen x reader where they have a big fight, she storms off, but while going, falls down the stairs and bumps into a wall and somehow her hand gets into a cast along with concussion. Jensen gets worrried and doesn't leave her alone all the time. After 2 days, for next appointment reader panicks while receiving PRP injection. All the fluff between these days. After few days, when her leg is better, next doc's appointment for removal of cast. Reader gets freaked out again. (Well I did freak, I had a full blown panic attack, my husband had to physically restrain me XD) so Jensen supporting her while removal process. ( I know I mentioned hand, but I wanted to request for leg, Idk how did I do that) Again sorry, I have bombarded you with such a long request. But write only if you want and are comfortable. Thanks ❤️

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Fem!Reader

A/N: Hope you enjoy this! 

Feedback is welcome!

Word Count: 3032

❅ ❅ ❅

It had barely been a week since Jensen got back from Vancouver and in one week everything had gone bad. There was something happening with the brewery and as a result tensions were high. This in turn caused the the married couple to snap at each other often. The last couple of days have been really bad as Jensen and Y/N kept fighting non stop. It was taking a toll on her and she didn’t know what to do to help him. Every time she tried, he would snap at her and it would result in a full blown argument. This time was no different.

“Damn Y/N! God it was so peaceful living alone back in Vancouver!” Yelled Jensen.

“Oh yeah?! Well maybe you should’ve just stayed back then!” Shouted Y/N as she stormed out of the master bedroom.

With tears blurring her vision and blind anger consuming her, Y/N failed to pay attention to where she was going, causing her to trip on the stairs and take a fall. On her way down, she hit her head against the wall and landed with a thud on the ground floor. Her right ankle was askew and pain shot through her like wildfire as she screamed. She barely noticed Jensen run down the stair and crouch down beside her worriedly asking her questions.

“Y/N! Oh god! What hurts, baby? Talk to me!” He asked frantically.

“My leg and my head.” She mumbled out, her head feeling a little dizzy.

Jensen went to hold her ankle to take a proper look at it, the action only made her yell out in pain more. “Shit I’m so sorry, honey! I think it’s broken.” He said.

He pulled out his phone dialling 911, “Hi I need an ambulance immediately! My wife fell down the stairs and I think she broke her ankle and might have a concussion.” He explained, giving them their address.

Y/N was close to falling asleep but was immediately woken up with insistent pats on her cheek.

“Hey, stay awake sweetie. You might have a concussion and falling asleep will make it worse.”  

“Everything hurts, Jay.” She said doing her best to keep her eyes open. The tears streamed down her face quickly wiped away by Jensen.

“I know, baby. I know. The ambulance will be here in a bit.” He said not leaving her side.

“C-can I sit up?”

“Just stay still okay? You’re going to be fine.” Jensen said carding his fingers through her hair while he held her hand with his other one.

The paramedics finally arrived and Jensen rode with her to the hospital.

_______________

12 hours later they finally made it back home at 1:30 in the morning. The doctor insisted on keeping Y/N in the hospital that long to make sure her concussion cleared up. He put her leg in a cast and prescribed some pain killers along with strict orders for plenty of rest for the ankle to heal. Lucky for her it was a small fracture that should heal on its own within a few weeks if she didn’t stress it out too much. She was, however, asked to come back couple of days later for a PRP injection to accelerate the recovery.

Jensen carried her inside the house and placed her on the couch. He shut the main door and went into the kitchen to bring Y/N her medicines and some water. Y/N knew there was something bothering him. He had been quiet the entire time and barely looked at her. She was feeling more and more guilty especially after the fight they had this morning. Her thoughts were interrupted when Jensen offered her a glass of water along with the pill. She took it and returned the glass back to Jensen who took it back to the sink, still avoiding any eye contact.

He came back to her to carry her to their bedroom when she stopped him.

“Jay, wait.”

“What’s wrong? You okay?” He asked fearing that the doctors missed something.

“I’m fine, but you clearly are not. Talk to me Jay.” She asked worriedly.

“Y/N it’s 1:30 in the morning and you’re hurt and in pain, and I’m exhausted. Can we please not do this now?” He asked rubbing his face.

Y/N felt a pang of hurt go through her heart. She had really messed up with the fight. Jensen was right he would’ve been more at peace without her.

“Okay.” She whispered and allowed him to carry her up to their room.

_______________

That morning Y/N woke up late thanks to her medication that made her drowsy. The space next to her was empty and suddenly the events that occurred the previous day crashed on her all at once, breaking her heart. Her leg was throbbing and she was doing her best to keep the tears at bay as she sat up and placed her feet on the floor.

Jensen walked into the room with a tray of breakfast, “Where do you think you’re going?” He asked chiding her.

“I thought-“

“I was making you breakfast in bed, Y/N. Now get back in and relax, okay?”

She got back in bed and Jensen placed the tray on her lap and sat in front of her. “How are you feeling today?” He asked rubbing her knee.

“Leg hurts a little, but my head is much better.” She replied taking a bite.

“Good. Eat up so you can take your painkillers.” He smiled softly at her.

“Okay.” Y/N back smiled at him.

Once breakfast was over Jensen grabbed the tray and handed her the medicines. He then helped her into the shower so they could take a bath. He covered her cast with plastic to it wouldn’t get wet and placed a stool in the shower so Y/N could sit comfortably. He helped her strip her clothes and proceeded to do the same. Nothing was exchanged between them which was odd. There was this lingering tension and Y/N didn’t know how to break it. Her mind was racing thinking of ways to apologise, and just as he proceeded to scrub shampoo in her hair a tear slipped from her eye. Her sniffle didn’t go unnoticed by hm and he immediately crouched down in front of her.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” He asked concern filling his eyes.

She shook her head sniffling some more.

“Then what’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“I’m sorry” she whispered.

“What for?”

“I’m sorry I’m so overbearing. I’m sorry, Jay. I shouldn’t have pushed you with the brewery and now you want to go back to Vancouver to get away from me. And then I had to get hurt and you’re stuck here with me. I’m sorry it’s not so peaceful here.” Her outburst stunned him.

“Y/N…”

“I’m sorry!” She was clutching onto him as tears fell rapidly down her cheeks. Jensen hugged her tightly to him, uncaring of the shampoo in her hair.

“Baby, you listen to me. I don’t want to get away from you. I’ll never want that, Y/N. I’m sorry I said that. I was angry and tired with everything that was happening and I took it out on you when you were only trying to help. It’s my fault baby. Vancouver sucks without you there. And I’m even more glad I’m here when you’re hurt. I’d hate myself if I wasn’t here for you. I already hate myself caz you’re hurt because of me.”

“It’s not your fault, Jay. It was a freak accident.”

“Feels like it is. I caused this indirectly.” He whispered, closing his eyes tightly. “God, when I heard you scream and saw you at the bottom of the stairs, my heart nearly stopped.”

“No you didn’t. I wasn’t paying attention. But I’m okay, Jay. Nothing too bad happened.”

“Yeah. Thank god for that.”

Y/N kissed him softly. When she pulled away from him she giggled.

“What?” He asked amused.

She scooped the suds on his nose left by her on her finger and showed it to him. He chuckled at that and kissed her nose. “Let’s get cleaned up. We have a busy day today.”

“Oh?” Y/N asked amused.

“Yep! A whole day dedicated to R&R!” He grinned.

“Can we watch The Lord of the Rings again?” Y/N asked with puppy eyes that she learnt from Jared.

Jensen groaned at her, “Fine, the gimp gets the final say.” He said earning a whack.

_______________

The next couple of days went by in a blink and the dreaded day finally arrived. It was time for Y/N to take a PRP injection. With lots of coaxing and promise of mind blowing sex, Jensen finally got her into the car and drove her to the hospital.

They were waiting for their turn and Y/N was bouncing her uninjured leg in nervousness. Jensen placed a hand on her leg, stopping her. “Calm down, Y/N. It’s going to be fine.”

“I hate you.” She snapped at him. “They’re going to give some stupid shot and I’m going to kill you.”

“Hey! I’m not the one giving the shot!”

“You made me come here!”

“You’d do anything in return for sex and you know it. You’re insatiable.” He grinned at her wiggling his eyebrows.

“Shuttup, Ackles.”

“Y/N Ackles” the nurse called out.

“You know if I wasn’t married to you now, that name would mean nothing!” Y/N whispered yelled.

“Haha, hilarious.” He said rolling his eyes. “Come on, gimpy. Let’s get you cured.” He helped her into the wheelchair and the nurse rolled her into the room.

The doctor made her lie down on the bed and got her prepped.

“We’re going to first draw some blood from your arm and then we will be transferring that blood into your leg. It’s so the extra platelets can help the injury heal faster.” He explained, making Y/N shudder.

Jensen moved closer to Y/N and she gripped her hand tightly. The doctor left the room for a while allowing Y/N to panic freely.

“Jay, I don’t want to do this!” She said frantically. “It’s not just one, it’s two needles poking me!” She said looking mortified. Jensen chuckled at her, “It’s not funny, Jay! Quit laughing at me!” She glared.

“I’m sorry, baby but it is a little funny. Besides, Y/N, it’ll be over before you know it. I promise, sweetheart.” He tried comforting her.

“You’re a jerk, Jay and I want to leave. Take me home, please!” She cried getting up.

Jensen pushed her back down gently and was about to say something when the doctor came back in with the stuff. Y/N was trying not to go into a full blown panic. Needles freaked her out big time and this was one of the worst things she’d had to do.

The doctor took a cotton swap with anti septic and cleaned the area making her flinch. Her grip on Jensen tightened and he kissed her forehead. “Just look at me, baby. Think about something else. Like what do you want to do this weekend, hmm?”

“I don’t know!” She looked at him wide eyed. Trying to play along but it was getting increasingly harder.

Just as the needle pierced through her she shut her eyes tightly, holding her breath in. She felt Jensen caress her cheeks with his thumb as he cupped them. “Breathe baby. It’ll go away.” He whispered.

“Almost done, Y/N” The doctor said smiling sympathetically at her.

She felt him gently withdraw the needle and she let out a breathe of relief when it was done. But that didn’t last long. She remembered the hard part was yet to come. The damn doc had to stick the little bastard into her leg and it was going to be 10 times worse.

She felt Jensen squeeze her hand, “Don’t think about it. Just keep talking to me ok?”

“Let’s go visit Jared and Gen this weekend.” She said, giving him a small smile.

“Yeah, that’s a great idea.” He smiled widely.

Y/N and Jensen kept chatting and she didn’t notice when the doctor was near her feet. The needled pierced her leg just above the cast and she whimpered in pain. “Son of bi-!” She exclaimed.

“There all done!” Grinned the doctor.

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Said Jensen smirking at her.

“Wipe that look off your face or I’ll do it for you.” She glared at him.

The doctor chuckled at her, “Well you’re good to go, Y/N. You just need to come back a week from now and we can remove the cast.”

“Can’t wait. This thing is itchy as hell.” You said, thanking him.

“And it smells” mumbled Jensen to himself earning a glare from Y/N.

An hour later they were back home comfortably cuddled up on the sofa. Y/N was flipping through the channels trying to find something good. Jensen groaned beside her as she changed it once more.

“Just pick one!” He exclaimed throwing his head back.

“I’m trying! There’s nothing good on!”

“I’m booored, N/N!”

“Urgh fine! You pick then!” She said throwing the remote into his lap.

He settled on some silly rom com, making Y/N look pointedly at him. “Really? This one?”

He grinned at her and she squeaked when he shifted her in a blink of an eye. She was sitting on his lap with her leg carefully placed so it wouldn’t hurt.

“What are you doing, Jay?” She asked suspiciously.

“Snogging to silly rom coms like teenagers?” The grin not leaving his face.

Y/N giggled at him, “You’re such a boy!”

“You love it.”

“Nahh.” She said with a cheshire cat grin. But soon started laughing as Jensen tickled her.

“Jay! Stop please!”

“Nope!”

“I’ll make you smell my cast if you don’t!” She managed to gasp out between laughter.

“Yuck! Keep that thing away from me, woman! That stench is poison!” He exclaimed with wide eyes, immediately stopping the tickle attack.

Y/N laughed at his reaction and kissed him hard. They spent the rest of the day snogging to crap TV.

_______________

A week later Y/N was back in that dreadful hospital room. She got her foot x-rayed and cleared for the cast to come off and she couldn’t be happier. Jensen was sitting on the chair beside her reading the stuff on the wall. Y/N was fiddling with her phone when the doctor came in with the equipments to cut open her cast.

When Y/N noticed the equipment, she freaked out. “W-what’s that? I thought you had to cut the cast open!”

The doctor chuckled at her, “This is to cut the cast open. That thing is too thick for scissors. We need something stronger.”

“Oh no no. You keep that thing away from me, she said in shock. She moved backwards in bed.

“You won’t feel a thing, I promise.” Said the doctor looking at Jensen for support.

“Y/N come on. This is the last time you need to be here. So let’s get this over it, huh?” He said gripping your hand.

Y/N watched in fear as the doctor got everything set up. He turned on the electric cutter and got ready to cut open the cast. Y/N went into a full blown panic attack and began thrashing around.

Jensen was holding onto her. “Honey, you gotta breathe for me. Look at me, Y/N.”

“No! No please. I can’t keep doing this, Jay! I’m constantly in pain and now he’s going to cut my leg! I like my leg!”

“Baby! He’s not going to cut your leg!” Jensen talked over her. “Look at me, Y/N. Open those eyes and look at me.” He pleaded.

Y/N reluctantly opened her eyes and looked into her husband’s green ones. It calmed her down for a second.

“There’s my girl.” He whispered. “I promise it won’t hurt.”

“Y/N, it won’t even get any close to your leg.” The doctor explained. “It’s just vibrations that will break open the cast.”

Y/N still looked unconvinced and stared at the monstrosity in his hands. Jensen cupped her face between his palms and kissed her forehead. “Do you trust me, Y/N?”

“Yes.” She whispered teary eyed.

“Then do this honey. It’ll be over soon.”

“O-okay.” She said taking a deep breathe and letting the doctor get to work.

20 mins later the cast was off and the doctor was checking her ankle once more. He then decided to put it in a brace since it was still swollen quite a bit and was painful.

“It’s going to hurt for a while, but I think it’s strong enough for you to start physical therapy. Just keep icing it and soaking it in hot water to bring down the swelling.”

“Thank you.” Smiled Y/N. “And I’m sorry you had to witness my freak out.”

“Oh don’t worry about it. I’ve seen people react worse.” He chuckled and left the room after shaking hands with Jensen.

“I’m sorry I was so panicky, Jay.” Mumbled Y/N looking guilty.

Jensen let out a booming laugh, surprising her.

“Why are you laughing?” She asked, confused.

“Y-you thought he wanted to cut your leg off!” He laughed harder.

“Shuttup, Ackles! It was scary okay! I’ve never done this before.” She looked at him grumpily. But she wasn’t really mad.

“Aww my poor gimpy!” He said pinching both her cheeks, making her swat his hands away.

“I’m not a gimp anymore!” She fake glared at him.

“True. I’m going to miss my little gimp. I could do whatever I wanted to her. But now she can limp away so fast.” He grinned cheekily.

“Ha ha! You’re fucking Robin Williams!” She said rolling her eyes.

“Oh the hubris! You’re not Robbin Williams, honey” He said his grin getting wider.

“Just take me home, you dork.” She shook her head at him fighting off a smile.

❅ ❅ ❅

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[ace-of-pages]

Coat of Arms Chapter Four: Rebels and Rogues

Kyan’s eyes were dark and wild, strange against the sterile backdrop of her kitchen.

“You alright?” she asked him.

“I saw it.”

“You saw…”

“The place between.”

“Oh. Oh!” Lib set her com down on the counter. “Pretty freaky, right?”

He nodded and brought his hand up to touch the cuts on his face. “It felt like, like…”

“Horrible, dark, cold,” she suggested. “It sort of pulls at you, right?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again and nodded. He put a hand on her shoulder again. “Horrible,” he agreed, and his features relaxed.

“We have about an hour,” she said, stepping away from him. “I’ll get you a new shirt and some coffee and we can go.”

They met Angela’s delivery team in an old warehouse along the Fenner Docks. Crates of newly cleaned soil packed the place, lining the walls and filling the air with its musk. “Moon,” the man inside the door greeted her as they entered, his arms crossed, straining his black jacket. His skin was darker than hers, nearly as dark as the jacket he wore, and his facial hair was shaped into a goatee. A style she’d pestered him about for years.

She gave him a soft smile, crinkling her eyes. “Tin.”

He scowled at her, but couldn’t hide the smile in his eyes, and he turned away to lead her through the maze of crates. Lib’s smile broadened as she followed him. “Nice coat,” he remarked. “Didn’t think it was cold enough for that. Who’s this guy?” He spoke slowly, letting his voice settle into the back of his throat as the words came out in a soft baritone.

“It breathes better than you’d think,” Lib told him.

Tin chuckled. “You were always one for a statement.”

“You know me,” she quipped. “It fits me well.” She heard his eyes roll, ahead of her. She glanced back at Kyan, who followed her wordlessly, his face passive but taking everything in. Tin led them to a somewhat open space near the center of the warehouse, where four other men stood around three large crates. Kyan tensed his shoulders at the sight of them and pressed his mouth into a line.

“Moon,” one of them greeted her. Who was he? Jay? Jess? She nodded to him.

“Alright,” Tin said, facing her. “So who is this guy? You need a bodyguard now?” He shook his head disapprovingly, taunting her.

“He’s here to help me move the product.”

“He got a name?” Tin asked, clasping his hands in front of him, mocking a businessman’s stance. Kyan’s arm twitched beside her, but he didn’t move.

“I already introduced him to Ange.”

“Yea, well, now you gotta introduce him to me. He’s gotta meet mom and pops.”

She glared at him. That dick. He smirked. “Ryan,” she said.

“Ryan,” Tin repeated, nodding. “That’s a fake name, but okay.” His tone was setting her teeth on edge. Five of them. She could out-shoot Tin if she needed to, and maybe one or two of the others, but five was too many, and Kyan didn’t have a gun.

“That’s a cop’s name,” J-whatever said. The others riled at his words.

She glanced at him, then turned back to Tin, ignoring the outburst. “So we good?”

Tin turned to the three crates. “The two of you gonna move all this by yourselves?”

“Looks that way,” she said. “Not that it’s any of your concern, since I paid for the product, and now it’s delivered. It’s all there?”

Tin glared. “Open the crates,” he said, and Lib approached to inspect them. Inside, the guns were laid out in rows and layered on trays. One of the men pressed the release, and the layers rose out of the crate with a hiss, pulling three more up after it. Five tiers altogether. “Everything in order?” Tin asked, leaning closer and raising his eyebrows.

“Looks fine from where I’m standing,” she said. Was he checking on her? He thought she was in trouble. She let the amusement play on her face, just enough that he’d catch it.

A flash of jealousy crossed his face, and he leaned back. “Your boy looks like he’s been fighting.” He nodded at Kyan over her shoulder.

“What can I say?” Lib said with a wide smile.

“Kind of a little dude for that kind of attitude,” J said. Lib looked over at Kyan, who watched her with studied passivity. Was he a little nervous, though?

“I didn’t know you were a poet, J,” Lib quipped, pushing the trays back into the crate.

“Shut up, Moon,” he spat. Lib and Tin glanced over at him for a moment, then turned to each other again. It was J something, and judging by the look on Tin’s face, that wasn’t what he was called now.

“Got a packet for you, too,” Tin said and directed his com to deliver it to her. “You’ve got a date with a collector.”

“Thanks.” He looked at her oddly.

“What’s going on, Moon?” he whispered, leaning in.

“Don’t worry, Pops, if the cops wanted to use me, they’d have to catch me first,” she replied.

He nodded, disappointed, and straightened. “Right. We’re out then,” he announced.

“No,” J said, staring intensely at Kyan. “Who is this guy, Moon?”

Lib spoke slowly when she answered. “Ryan. He’s here to help me move the product.”

“Bullshit,” J said and pulled a gun to point at Kyan. “This is all bullshit, they gonna have twenty cops outside if we leave now. How they supposed to carry all this shit themselves?”

“He is a fuckin’ cop,” another man insisted, reaching inside his jacket as well.

“He’s not a cop,” Lib said, her voice rising.

“He looks like a fuckin cop,” he repeated, and more guns were drawn. Her fingers twitched, wanting her own weapon.

“He does look a cop,” Tin said.

Lib held her hands up. “He’s not a cop.”

“Who is he, then?” J demanded, drawing his own gun. “What’s your name, Cop?” He pointed the gun at Kyan’s face, grinning the same stupid grin he’d always used to threaten, jutting his chin out.

“Ryan,” Kyan said, holding his hands up.

“You asshole,” Lib muttered. He had no intention of shooting Kyan. Angela must have mentioned his importance. Still, the fact that he’d threaten her partner on a job. She’d been clean for too long.

“That’s a fake name,” the second man accused.

“We all have fake names,” Lib spit back.

“Everybody relax,” Tin said, and pointed the gun at her, instead. “If he’s not a cop, Moon, who is he?” He was scared, resigned, daring her. He was ready to shoot her, if he had to. Shit.

She pressed her teeth together, her hands still in the air. “He’s a ring fighter. Knives, mostly.”

“A knife fighter?” Tin asked him, skeptical. “How about you show me what you got?”

Kyan slowly reached behind his back, and J spoke up again. “No no, keep your hands up.” He pointed his gun at Lib. “She can get it.”

She met his eyes, finally. Who was this guy? She glanced at Tin, and he nodded. She reached behind Kyan’s back and pulled his knife out of its sheath, then handed it to Kyan, who held it sideways in his hand, waiting.

Tin stepped forward and grabbed Lib by the arm. He turned, and backed her into a stack of crates, away from J. Kyan stepped forward, and she held a hand up, giving a quick shake of her head.

“What the hell, Tin?” she demanded, turning her eyes back to him. She slipped her hand into the outside pocket and came out with a knife of her own. She held it against his stomach, under the gun he had pressed to her chest. “What’s your game?” Kyan watched, the knife held loosely in his hand, ready to lunge.

Tin glared at her again, then grinned at Kyan. “Put ‘em down,” he called to the others. “We’re gonna fight like men today.” He turned and took a step toward Kyan.

Lib stepped after him and drove her knife into the side of his leg. He jerked away and she drew her gun, crouching down. A single shot went off. Not J - he looked over at the man who did it, shocked.

“Stop!” Tin shouted, holding up a hand to them. He straightened, and laughed, though she could see the sweat on his forehead. “Guess Moon is still crazy after all.” He looked back at her, his eyes blazing.

“Careful, Tin, your blood is dripping.”

He waited another beat, then spoke. “Product delivered. Time to go.” When his men hesitated, he barked, “Get out!” The men obliged, shuffling towards the back entrance, grumbling. He turned to Lib. “Did you have to stab so deep?”

“You were ready to shoot me,” she answered with a smirk. “Now go away.”

He glanced at Kyan again. “You sure you’re not in trouble?”

“I’m sure,” she said and looked over his shoulder. “You might be, though. Who is that guy?”

Tin looked around and saw J, standing in the doorway, the last to leave. “We call him Veck. You know him? You called him J.”

She shook her head. “He’s familiar, but I can’t seem to remember his name. James or something.” She looked over at him again, watching them. “Be careful.”

Tin nodded, raised his gun, and shot J in the forehead. “Thanks for the tip.”

Lib blew out a breath. “Shit. Still over-happy, are you?” Kyan moved closer, somehow both calm and tense.

Tin smiled. “Let’s see who he is, shall we?”

The others had drawn their guns, aiming for the door when they approached the body, laying half in and half out of the warehouse. Tin waved them down. “He’s a plant.” They stepped back and looked around, cursing quietly.

“Com, scan for hidden devices,” Lib said and pointed her device at the man.

“There is a subcutaneous device behind the right earlobe,” it told her.

“Cut it out,” she told Tin.

“What’s going on?” Kyan asked from behind them, looking nervously at the body.

“I think he’s undercover,” she whispered, folding her arms around herself. “Police.” Tin worked quickly, pulling out a small knife and opening up the dead man’s neck. In moments he held the device up to Lib.

“Com, identify.” An image of a man’s face - the dead man’s face - came up on her screen, followed by the name Sidney Harkes. Underneath his name were three words that made Lib want to scream. He was not a cop.

International Peacekeeping Initiative.

Lib covered her mouth with her wrist. Damn you, Tin, and your stupid over-happy trigger finger.

“Fuck,” Tin swore. His men seemed to share the sentiment and two of them turned and ran immediately.

The third shook his head and stepped back. “We gotta get out of Seattle, man.”

“And go where?” Tin demanded.

The man’s face twisted. “Angela won’t be happy about this.”

Tin looked at the man, paused for half a breath, and shot him.

“What the hell?!” Lib demanded.

“Shut up!” he shouted back. “I gotta deal with this.” He raised his hands to his face but stopped before he spread Sidney’s blood any more. He balled them into fists. “I gotta get rid of the body.”

“You need to go,” Lib said, and held out her bloody glove.

“You heard that guy! Go where? Are you out of your mind?!”

“Tin,” she said, calmly, her hand still out. “Stop.”

His mouth twisted in disgust, and he lunged forward, grabbing her face. Kyan moved, but she was closer. She twisted aside and pushed his wrist up and off of her, then drew her gun from its holster. She pointed it at his chest, as he pointed his at her, and his eyes grew wide. Kyan grimaced, ready to fight, but Tin sighed first, dropping his arms. “When did you turn, then? This guy, he is a cop, isn’t he? Guess he’ll be turning me in. Or are you just gonna do me right here?”

She shook her head. “You’ll have to clean that leg yourself. Now give me the chip.”

He wavered, looking down at the body, but he dropped the chip into her hand.

“Go,” she said, harshly. “I will deal with this.”

Tin looked back up at her, wrapped an arm around her waist, and kissed her. “I’ll see you, Moon,” he said, his voice a bit smaller than normal, and he stepped over the body, onto the street, and turned left.

Kyan stepped up beside her, his hands folded together in front of him, his brow furrowed. “You have blood on your face, Traveler,” he said. Lib sighed.

“I’m sure you’ve seen plenty of people with blood on them, Hamalain.”

“So what happens now?”

“I have to deal with this body - bodies - and clean up the blood. I can bring you to the ship first, though.”

“No.” He shook his head. “I’ll help. What do we do?”

“You know it’s a crime, right?”

“I get that. But, ultimately, it’s not my concern. It’s not my world, and you’re doing this for my benefit.” She made a face, and he continued. “It’s not my job to influence other worlds. You’re the Traveler.”

“Well, that’s good of you. Can you lift the bodies?”

He nodded, crouched down, and hauled the body of Sydney Harkes onto his shoulders. She pulled out the mirror, and with a nod from her reflection, dragged them back to the forest of the aven. “This will do,” she said, her head swimming a bit.

“Who was he? What did the com say that caused all this?”

Oh, he couldn’t read it. Lib stared at the body for a long moment. “International Peacekeeping Initiative,” she said. “He was an agent.” She looked over at him and pulled out the stone mirror. “Like I thought he was a… guard, or whatever, but it turned out he was a knight.”

Pain crossed his face, then his expression hardened. “Mother keep you,” he told the body. “Let’s go back.” She raised the mirror. The vertigo was worse when she landed in Seattle again. And worse still when they got back from dumping the second body by Sydney’s. Too many jumps, too quickly. She stripped off her gloves and shoved them into a pocket, then pulled out a clean pair.

“Who is Mother?” she asked, as she retrieved her com. “Com, operation hangover.”

“The goddess,” he said. “Keeper of the dead, among other things.” They were goddess worshipers? “We call her Enakka.”

“Oh, Enakka, the wife of Enki?” she asked.

“The mother of Enki,” he said, narrowing his eyes in confusion.

“Mother?” Odd. She pointed her com at the blood on the ground and a blue light shone out of it. The blood quickly turned brown and sludgy.

“Tin was going to shoot you.”

“If he had to.” She moved to the second puddle. “But we worked it out.” They finished cleaning up the blood in silence, and when it had dried sufficiently, Kyan dragged a crate of dirt over and opened it atop the mess, spreading it to cover everything before they moved to store the guns away in her pockets.

When they appeared on the beach in Kinnuva, Lib keeled forward, coughing. Would that get easier or harder with time? Kyan put his hands on her shoulders to steady her, though his face was green, and after a moment she straightened. She looked down the beach, toward the water, and cursed, quietly. “I missed.”

“It’s alright, I’ll summon them,” he told her. He reached into the rock for a torch and looked over at her. She couldn’t make out his expression in the dark, but she sensed a question. “Something you want to know?”

“You and Tin, you’re lovers?”

Oh. She smirked. “Sometimes.”

He nodded. “Interesting relationship.”

“It works for us.” She quirked an eyebrow as he struck a match to the torch.

“I don’t mean to judge,” he told her, “but he did seem willing to kill you.”

“It’s just business. What about Yorhonen? She seemed pretty worried about you this morning.”

He shook his head. “She only loves women. She worries.” He held the torch up and turned to move down the beach. A chill went down her spine, raising the hairs on her arms. She frowned.

“Something is wrong,” she said, quietly, and Kyan froze, and looked around. They could be seen by their light, but couldn’t see themselves. Lib reached into her jacket for the sword and handed it to Kyan.

“Back up,” he said, stepping in front of her. They backed down the beach, towards one of the large rocks that crossed the line between sand and water. Lib reached into her pockets again for a Gem and slotted the clip into the back of it.

“Sir Hamalain?” a voice called out to them with false friendliness.

“Who’s there?” Kyan asked, and raised the torch over his head.

A figure stepped out of the shadows, clad in armor, with a red cloak flowing from his shoulders. “What are you doing here?” he asked, amused.

“Do you want me to shoot him?” Lib whispered, taking aim.

“Not yet,” he told her, then called back to the man. “You know what I’m doing here, Sir Jari. And I know why you’re here. Do you want to fight me?”

Jari laughed. “It wouldn’t be much of a fight without your armor.”

“Agreed,” Kyan said, steeling himself. “Which is why you didn’t come alone.”

Lib couldn’t see the man’s face, but his silence was telling. She watched him look over his shoulder, and more lights appeared behind him, carried by other knights, at least a dozen. “Who’s he with?” another voice called, a woman’s. Lib stepped back again and moving closer to the rock. Thirteen enemies, eighteen bullets, but it was dark. They could slip back to Seattle, though.

“Mirror?” she said, quietly.

“She has nothing to do with this,” Kyan replied and tilted his head to the side. That was a no. Of course, they had their location. It needed to be dealt with. She still had her own gun, for another nine bullets. Twenty-seven bullets, thirteen enemies. Better odds, but still dark, and she’d have to be quick. Kyan was quick, and they’d be similar.

At least thirteen enemies.

“Lies, Sir Hamalain?” came a third voice. “How the mighty have fallen.” Someone snickered but was quickly silenced.

“It would seem the traitor has lessened the meaning of those cloaks,” Kyan said dryly. Then, quieter, “there is an opening beneath the arms.”

“Enough of this,” Jari called again. “You are a traitor to the crown. Will you come quietly?”

“That crown belongs to someone else,” Kyan said, just loudly enough to carry his voice. There was a hitch. He did not want to fight this man.

“So be it,” Jari said in a similar tone and nodded to his right. The guards around him drew swords, the sound of it sleek and sharp in the night air, and moved toward them, spreading out. Lib raised her gun.

“How dare you!” Kyan shouted. “You swore an oath to the king.”

“I still serve the king!” Jari called back.

“That pretender is no king!”

“Your rebellion will tear Kinnuva apart, Sir Hamalain!”

“Hiraven did that!” he called back. The knights had paused in their approach. He was playing for time. She glanced up at the torch he held, dancing in the darkness. She didn’t turn around.

“Take them!” Jari reasserted.

“Does it take a dozen of your men to fight us?” Lib called in a mocking tone. “I don’t even have a sword.”

“Who are you?” he replied. She could hear his frown.

“You could call me a courier.” She stepped up beside Kyan, who shot her a warning glance.

“Enough games!” Jari shouted. “Take them!”

“Right,” she said and pulled the trigger. The gem clicked loudly, and the first of the knights fell backward into the sand. There were more than a dozen. Fifteen? Those nearest the fallen knight hesitated, glancing at him nervously, and Lib heard the slosh of the boat behind her. Her gun buzzed as she took their hesitation to fire another round, felling a second.

“She’s a witch!” someone cried out.

“They have reinforcements!” someone else added.

A pair of shouts sounded and several figures - Koskinnen and Yorhonen among them - rushed past them with weapons drawn, armor glinting in the torchlight. The charge seemed to invigorate their attackers, and their companions were met with a tide of steel. Lib fired again and missed as several of Kyan’s would-be arrestors met him, blade to blade. He stepped back, defending both of them from the onslaught, and she moved with him. She fired three more shots, felling two of them. Kyan swept one of their swords aside, then brought his own blade down on the hand that held it. The man dropped his weapon with a scream, and Kyan grabbed the shield. He kicked the man in the chest, and the bone in his arm snapped. The screaming was cut short as Kyan drove his sword into his face. He wrenched the shield off of the body and slammed it into the other man.

Lib faltered, her eyes wide. She’d killed those knights. Melody’s face came back to her, swimming just behind her eyes. She couldn’t hesitate. She could deal with this later. She raised her gun again, and her hands were steady. She fired again, and again, and another knight fell as she approached them. Kyan ran down the beach to catch the onslaught before it got to her.

Their reinforcements fought a trio of guards ahead of the rest. Koskinnen, standing a head taller than most of them, slammed a very large axe into the chest of one of them, crushing the plate in, while Yorhonen parried blows from the other two. She dodged past an overhead swing from one and caught another blow on her shield before bringing her own sword up to knock the other knight’s helmet askew. “Atos!” she cried and kicked the woman toward him. Atos spun on his heel, his axe ready, and beheaded her before spinning back to his own staggering opponent and delivering a crushing blow to his helmet. Yorhonen ducked beneath another swing from the remaining knight and drove the tip of her blade up under his arm. She brought him to the ground with a kick to the knee.

Lib scanned the beach, looking for Sir Jari and his red cloak, but saw only flashes of blue and silver. Where would he be? Where would she be? She looked up at the rock and saw something moving on top of it. Two bodies. She raised her gun, and fired, bringing one of them to tumble down and collapse at her feet, the blue cloak fluttering in the wind. Jari leapt down after, swatting her arms aside with the flat of his blade as he landed. She tried to bring her gun back to target, but he grabbed her wrist, holding it in the air. He stabbed his sword into the sand and yanked the gun from her grasp.

“You’re not a mage,” he accused her, holding her weapon up. “What is this?” She pulled against him and spat at him, and he swung her around, pushing her back into the rock, and she felt the waves begin to lap at her ankles. “Answer me!”

She coughed at the impact. “I am a mage,” she said. “And fuck you.” Someone approached him from behind.

“Speak,” he commanded, and leveled the gun at her chest, though his finger was not on the trigger.

“Traveler,” she said. She couldn’t see his face through his helmet, but she felt his attention.

Yorhonen stepped up beside him and thrust her sword at his side. He brought his arm down, catching the blade on his gauntlet, and grabbed onto it. She slammed her shield into his shoulder and he rolled away from the blow, throwing Lib into the water and pulling Yorhonen’s sword from her hands. He spun around to face her as she took up his sword from the sand. She took a step toward him, and he raised the gun. Lib heard it click, and Yorhonen fell to the side, into the rocks, then the sand. The impact of her helmet on the stone rang, and Lib gasped. “No!” She pushed herself to her feet as Jari turned back toward her, swinging a metal-clad fist at her face. He struck, and she stumbled to the side.

“You side with traitors!” he screamed at her.

Then Kyan was there. Jari stopped and stepped back. “You seem to have lost your sword,” Jari said and raised the gun again. Lib jumped forward, throwing herself into Jari. He stepped to the side to catch her momentum, and the gun clicked but went askew. Kyan lunged forward and grabbed Jari around the waist, carrying him forward into the water. The gun and sword fell as the two grappled each other in the waves.

Lib looked back up the beach, to where Yorhonen had fallen. More of the enemy knights were coming toward them. Lib ran toward the body, drawing another gun. She took a knee beside Yorhonen and fired. And fired. Knights fell as they charged, until less charged. When the last of them had been shot or beheaded, Koskinnen rushed to her and pulled Yorhonen’s helmet off. The side of her coif was soaked with blood. Lib put her hand over her mouth.

“No, Hesk,” he moaned, taking her face in his hands. She coughed and gasped.

“Shit!”

“To the boat!” Koskinnen said and lifted Yorhonen off the ground. Lib turned back to the surf, and a figure rose from the water, dragging a body forth. She held her breath for a moment, but he wore no armor, and she ran to him.

“She’s alive,” Lib said and stooped to collect the dropped weapons.

“Thank the Mother.” Kyan threw the body into the sand.

“Did you drown him?”

Kyan looked at her. “Get to the boat.”

They ran to the boat, meeting the others, and Kyan pushed them off. He rowed into the waves, heaving himself into it. Koskinnen held Yorhonen in his arms, his helmet rolling on the floor of the boat, bumping into the body of the other man who’d fallen on the beach. He held her gaze, taking deep, slow breaths, and she followed him, leaning into him. He looked terrified. “Koskinnen,” Kyan yelled, and he looked up. “Row.” The waves rocked the little boat, pushing it adrift as Kyan fought against them.

“Here,” Lib said, moving closer to Koskinnen and holding her arms out. He met her eyes and nodded, then laid Yorhonen across Lib’s lap. Her shoulders were broad, and broader for the armor. They looked at each other and drew breaths, Lib leaning over her to share breath.

“This was my favorite gambeson,” Yorhonen said between breaths.

Lib smiled at her. “That’s how it goes.”

“Tell Atos I’ll be okay.”

They made it to the ship and were hauled up in the boat, the call for a medic barely reaching the top before them. Koskinnen - Atos - jumped across first, Yorhonen in his arms. They were received by several pairs of hands, and Lib after them.

Kyan came aboard after Lib and stood beside her for a moment. “Are you alright?”

She looked up at him, her expression fully out of her control. “Blood on your face,” she said, blankly. Part of the voidling scratch had opened and been joined by three new scratches, and that wasn’t all. He dripped from several cuts.

“Yes,” he agreed. “You should sit down.” He moved to take her arm, then stopped, and held his hand out instead. She took it, slowly, and he led her to the hatch leading to the belly of the ship.

The ship was bustling, anxiety roiling over the crew as they tied and untied ropes with a practiced rhythm Lib felt, but couldn’t discern. Sails were loosed over their heads as the crew shouted instructions and reports across the ship. Lib stayed close to the knights, staying out of the way of the crew as they worked. Captain Jokela fell into step beside Kyan. “What happened?”

“Sir Jari and his unit found our location. They were on the beach when we arrived.”

“Numbers?”

“Fifteen bodies,” Kyan told him. “Didn’t see a runner.”

“What happened to Sir Yorhonen?”

Kyan looked back at Lib. “Traveler?”

“Jari took my gun,” she said. “He shot her, and she fell into the rocks.”

“It didn’t kill her,” Jokela said, looking back as well.

“Just a graze,” Lib told him. He nodded and turned back to Kyan.

“Bring her to my cabin. We’re preparing to change our position. We sail at dawn.”

“Sir,” Kyan said, and Jokela turned away, moving quickly.

The captain’s quarters were messier than usual. The bed was unmade and the blankets half on the floor. Chairs were tipped over and his chest was open, clothes draped over the side of it. “Please wait here,” Kyan said from the doorway. He waited, anxiety flooding his face. She nodded quickly.

“Okay.” Her voice was small, quiet. Strange. He closed the door, and she was alone.

That was a lot of blood. How many men had died just now? How many had she killed? The way those first few had looked when the first man had fallen to her shot. No faces, not through the helmets, but she already knew the look. It wasn’t one easily forgotten. They were the bad guys, though? The ones on the wrong side of the war. She was helping the rebels. The traitors, Jari had called them. Sir Jari.

And the way he had looked when he came out of the water. He’d drowned a man with his bare hands.

That man would have killed her, though.

But Sir Hamalain had killed many of their men, too, she was sure. She’d seen it. It was the first thing she’d seen him do, in fact. So why was this bothering her, now?

The rocking of the boat changed, and she stumbled into the table. Her head swam, and she threw herself over to the bed to sit down. Was this sailing? They said they were changing their position. She leaned over, resting her head on her knees. Almost everyone she’d seen today had bled today, and mostly because of her. She groaned, and wrapped her hands over her head, wrapping her fingers into her hair.

She should leave. She’d delivered the guns.

Hadn’t gotten paid, though.

She could come back.

She’d told him she’d wait.

It was the brutality, she realized and sat up laughing. She’d seen Tin kill many people, but it was just a buzz, a click, a pop. There was blood, yes, but never so much. She’d never killed so many people as tonight, and she’d never seen anything so brutal. Jokela had been right. She definitely did not belong on a battlefield. It would be hard to avoid, though, if she stayed much longer. She ran her hands over her face. She’d stay long enough to get paid and pass along the instruction she’d promised.

The door opened, and the captain came in. “Traveler,” he greeted her. “Are you well?”

“I’ll probably be sore tomorrow. Kind of got knocked around. Did better than some others, though.”

“You are seasick.”

Seasick. From the sailing. Right. “In part,” she agreed.

“I’m told you were instrumental to the victory on the beach.”

She swallowed. “Because I murdered all those men.”

“You saved men as well.”

“I missed the boat.”

He tilted his head at her. “If you had not, they would have discovered our location anyway.” He crossed the room and sat beside her, somehow keeping his feet despite the rather extreme angle of the floor.

She closed her eyes. “I know.” Was this what the ancients were so happy for?

He put a hand on her shoulder. “It is hard. I’d be concerned if it wasn’t.”

“Yes,” she told him, breathing back her anxiety. She could deal with this later. She’d been pushing a friend’s face from her mind for years, she could do the same for a few strangers. “So, you want to know about the guns, then?”

He nodded, letting the subject drop. “Were you successful?”

“They’re all in my pockets.”

He frowned. “How many did you get?”

“Three hundred. Though I did use one of them on the beach. Couldn’t really be avoided.”

“Your coat must be magical.” He looked her over.

“It is.” She forced a grin, pulling on the lapel. “Do you want them in here?”

“No. I’ll show you to the armory. The rest can happen tomorrow.”

Wasn’t dawn in about two hours? Did he expect her to sleep here? “Okay.”

He helped her belowdecks to a room on the other end of the ship from the kitchen. The quartermaster, Master Helkin, was an older man with a large scar down the center of his face, a ragged gray beard, and thick fingers that dwarfed the gun he held as she explained the mechanism to him, enough for basic care and storage.

“It’s not magic, though?”

She wavered her head. “It’s more like… a machine that replicates a magical effect.”

“As long as they help us win,” he said.

Kyan was on the deck when she resurfaced. Climbing up the ladder had been somehow easier than climbing down, though she was just as dizzy when she stood up straight. The wind was even worse, now that they were moving, and she felt it would blow her over. “Do you want to lean on the rail?” He asked her, leaning close to make his voice heard.

“I want to sit!” She leaned on him as she swayed, and he led her across the deck to his quarters.

Inside, he sat her on one of the cots, and he sat on the other. She was silent for a moment, watching him. He looked so tired, but he watched her as well. He was worried. Worn. It had been a long war for him. And she was going to fall apart after one day? “Did Sir Koskinnen and Sir Yorhonen rebel because of you?” Now, why did she say that?

His eyebrows shot up. “Yes,” he admitted. Guilt. “They followed me.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Will she be okay?”

“She will live.”

Lib nodded. “I thought she was dead when I saw her fall.” She took his hand. “She’ll be okay, though.”

“Yes, she is strong.”

“You’re really close with her.”

“They are my closest friends. Blooded kin.” He closed his eyes. “They followed me, they fight beside me.”

“You blame yourself.”

“Many things are my responsibility.”

“You know, you told me I should take more responsibility. And you were right. But maybe you should take less. You can’t control everything, that shit that happened tonight was crazy. You did everything you could.”

“I left my child behind,” he said, his face darkening. Lib’s mouth fell open. “I couldn’t get her out of the palace.”

She forced in a breath. “That’s the other job.”

“Yes.”

“Do you know-”

“Yes.” He looked at her, his eyes burning despite the blue circles below them. “She is a mage. Sir Hiraven would want her alive.”

She pushed her fingers up through her curls. “Ah, fuck me. Yes, I will do it. I’ll help you get her back.”

He stared at her. “You- what do you want for it?”

“Seriously? I’m not a complete ass.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“I know.” She sighed and rolled her eyes. “We’re friends now, aren’t we?”

The light from the candle cast flickering shadows across his face. “I don’t think you understand how dangerous it will be.”

“No, I don’t think you understand how good I am at breaking into places. Even without a mirror.”

“There’s no magic in your world.”

“No,” she conceded, “but there are motion sensing security bots, fingerprint identification, and rapid response communications interference.”

“Are you sure those skills translate?”

“No, but that’s what the mirror is for! And why you’re going with me!” She pressed her lips together and glared at the ceiling. He really wanted this to be a trade. “Fine,” she snapped. “I promised the aven I’d bring them a flower guarded by some kind of monster. When I go to get it, you can come with me and kill the thing.”

Then he could be hunted by the voidlings again. He dragged his hands over his face. “I’m sorry. I must be tired. What I should have said is thank you. I could do with a friend. And I’m happy to help you get the flower you need, too, once this is all over.”

She dropped her shoulders. “I don’t really want to bring you along for that.”

He considered this. “We’ll talk about it later.”

“I suppose we will.”

“Are you alright?”

She sighed. “Yes. No. It’s a lot. You- I killed a lot of people today. And I know I saved people, too, but-”

“It doesn’t really help to justify it.”

“Yea. You know, you’re a little scary,” she said. He nodded. “He knew it, too. Jari. Then you came out of the water with him.” She suppressed a shudder.

“Olivia-”

“I’m sorry,” she said and stood up. “I should go.”

He stood as well. “Wait. Maybe you shouldn’t be alone. Atos will be in the infirmary all night. You could sleep there. Or in Heska’s quarters.”

“Thanks, but I think I really want a shower.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ll be back in a few days.”

“We haven’t picked a new location, though.”

“You know, I think I’ll be able to find you.” She’d shown up in his cabin before, when she hadn’t meant to, after all. It might have been because she was using his mirror, but that didn’t seem quite right. There was attraction - was that all? Was that enough? Maybe she just needed an anchor of any kind. She’d been able to pinpoint her condo, after all. Of course, she’d lived there for years. Maybe it was the smell of him. Mumu had carried aromatics on her at all times. Did scent have something to do with it?

She had a feeling her reflection would get a twinkle in its eye about it.

“Alright,” he said. “If you’re sure you’ll be okay.”

“You should probably shower, too.” She pulled out the mirror, and he chuckled. “Kyan?” she said after a moment. “What’s her name?”

He smiled, weakly. “Kamea.”

***

She was sore when she woke the next morning. She regretfully instructed the curtains to open, letting in the sunlight, then started coffee. She called in an order of sweet potato hash and took another shower. The water eased some of the aches away. It had been years since she’d worked so hard. Her success had made her soft, and not just her body. The way Angela and Tin had acted… there was a time they wouldn’t have dared.

Tin had gotten harder. He’d shot that agent without a second thought. With too little thought. Why was there an IPI Agent there? Had Angela gotten into something? Where had she seen the guy before? He was so familiar. She needed to talk to Angela. She couldn’t let it slide, let herself fade away. They’d continued to use her old moniker out of respect for who she’d once been, or maybe just out of habit, but that wouldn’t be enough. She was getting into a real mess. She needed people she could count on. She needed to be Olivia Moon again.

After she was dressed, she went over her schedule. It was Tuesday, and she was supposed to train Jokela’s men in gun use. Her meeting with the collector was on Saturday, and he was in Port Elizabeth. Half a day’s travel from Seattle. Well, less, with the mirror. That gave her five days to figure out what was going on with Angela, remember where she’d seen Harkes before, and make sure Tin was okay. She could do that.

She sent Angela a message, asking to meet with her tomorrow morning. That would be a good place to start. Didn’t she know someone in Port Elizabeth? That’s right, Cerri. She sent her a message as well, asking if she could visit on Saturday. She chewed her lip. Would Kyan want to go with her to meet with the collector? This guy was straight with the law, mostly, so Kyan would probably go over better with him. But Jokela might not approve. Still, something that could breach a wall would be heavy, and she was supposed to be getting two of them. Would they even fit in her pockets?

Her com buzzed with a video request. Someone was getting back to her already. She tapped to answer it and cursed to herself as she did. It was neither Angela nor Cerri. His curls were looser than hers, and his eyes darker, but their skin was the same tone, their jaws the same cut, though his was lined with a pretentiously thin beard.

“Martin!”

“I can’t believe you actually answered,” he said. “I thought you’d forgotten how.”

“Yea, I don’t believe it either,” she mumbled. “It’s not really a good time.”

“Are you kidding? When is it ever?”

“Martin, I have things to do,” she said.

“Everybody has things to do, Libby.” His voice was deeper than she remembered but rose sharply. “Maggie and I have been trying to get hold of you.”

“I saw I had some messages. About twenty of them, actually.”

He scoffed. “Great, at least I know your com works. What the hell, why would you come back and not see mom and dad?”

“How did you-”

“Claire Lomins.”

Of course. She rolled her eyes. “What do you want?”

“We need to talk.”

“We are talking.”

He sighed. “Come back to Lorina. This is important.”

Lib rolled her eyes. “I bet.”

“Libby!”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Martin. I have important things going on, you know.”

“Don’t be like this.”

“Yea, I’ll let you know when my schedule clears up. Goodbye, Martin.”

“Wait, Mag-”

She ended the call and tossed her com onto her bed. She probably should have gone to see her parents. And Martin. He looked so much older now. What was he, twenty-eight? He’d been barely thirteen when she left home. Though she’d seen him a handful of times since it was always a shock to see him looking so grown. Guess it made sense. He did have a kid now.

She would deal with that later. After she’d worked through the mess she was in. She’d find time to see them. She looked herself over, clean clothes, another pair of boots, jacket on. She pulled out the mirror and thought of Kyan, willing herself to find him on that ship. And to not land in the middle of the ocean.

The ground shifted under her. No, not the ground, the deck. The ship was moving. Her feet went forward with it, and the rest of her did not follow. She stepped back and fell over. The wind whipped at her face, salty and harsh. She blinked her eyes into focus and looked around. A young man in loose clothes stared at her, eyes wide and mouth agape, a brass tube dangling from his fingers. She climbed to her feet.

“Hello.”

“Hi,” he said quickly, then flushed. “I mean, Traveler.” He swallowed.

“What’s your name?”

“Jute,” he told her, and he rubbed the back of his leg with a foot.

“Hello, Jute. What is that?”

He held up the tube, confused. “A spyglass?”

“What’s it for?”

He frowned and handed it to her. “For looking out.”

She took the spyglass and held it up to her face as he mimed, and Jute laughed nervously.

Wait, where was she? Why was Jute the only person on the deck? She took the glass from her face and looked down. Her eyes went wide. “Oh shit.” She was not on the deck. She was on top of one of the wooden towers. She grabbed the rail. At least she didn’t miss the ship. She handed the spyglass back to Jute and held the rail with both hands to look down at the rest of the ship.

“You’re not really supposed to be up here,” he told her.

Olivia Moon, Olivia Moon. “I assume there’s a way to get down, then?”

He pointed to the ladder. “Use the tether,” he said, “and I’ll brace you.”

She looked over the edge of the rail again. It was nearly a hundred feet down. She’d climbed higher things, but not on a ship, with all the wind, on a ladder made of rope.

“Can you make it?”

“Yes,” she told him, confidently, and slipped the tether around her waist. He adjusted it for her and let her down. The descent was slow, at first, as the ship swayed in the wind, but she climbed faster the further she went. When she finally made it to the deck, she let out a breath and wiped the sweat from her palms.

“Alright, Traveler?” someone asked her, and she turned to see a red-haired woman giving her a stern look.

“Yea, yea I am,” Lib said, untying the tether. She rolled her shoulders against the ache and looked back up the tower. “What do you call this part of the ship?”

“This is the mast, that’s the crow’s nest,” she said, indicating them with her jaw and forehead, respectively.

“Mast, crow’s nest, thanks.”

“You should be more careful,” the woman said harshly.

“I was careful,” Lib said. “I used the tether.”

“About where you land. You can’t help us if you fall to your death.”

She blinked and raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t mean to. I’m new at this.”

“You need to learn, then. A soldier should always understand the weapons she wields.”

“I’m not a soldier.”

The woman narrowed her eyes. “Then what are you doing in a war?”

Lib balked. “Helping?”

She did not look convinced.

What was she doing? She could act better than this. “Olivia Kosk,” she said, sticking out her hand.

“Lieutenant Ola Fiernen.” They shook hands.

“Lieutenant Fiernen,” Lib repeated. “I suppose you can call me a freelancer. And today, I’m a weapons dealer.”

“You’re supposed to teach me how to use those weapons.”

“Yes. Well, target practice might be difficult, but we can go over the basics.”

Fiernen looked down at Lib’s feet. “You need to learn to move with the waves. You can’t be a tree on a ship, Traveler.”

Lib looked down at her feet and relaxed some of her muscles. She felt herself start to sway. “Yea, alright,” she said, trying to feel the rhythm.

“Better. Follow me.”

#fantasy #portal fantasy

[miss-choco-chips]

Good influence, bad influence.

Tim is one of those, and he gets the other one. Guess which is which. Ft a murder kitten, two oblivious birds, a divorce-preventing baby and a murderous mother.

(Thanks to @the-quiet-carrotcake who helped me think this through on chat and gave me ideas (THANKS BABE), and tagging @animemangasoul because they understand my need to ALWAYS include Kon when writting about Tim.

This sat on my wips for so long now, so I’m not even proofreading it. Just take it away, please)

-----.-----

-Are you sure I can’t just stab her?

-Really sure.

-How much?

-Like, 100% sure.

-You told me once it’s impossible to ever/

-...be 100% sure of something, I know. Which is how you know I mean it now.

Damian puffed his cheeks. Tim was sure that, in his mind’s eye, he looked dignifiedly annoyed. In reality, it was adorable. But since Damian currently held his right hand hostage, and was probably holding onto his dagger inside his pocket with the other one, he didn’t want to risk pointing it out. He just tugged him away, swimming through the masses, as Damian had called them upon entering the ballroom.

-But why not? 

It was as close to a whine a sound as the kid could make, which upped his adorable factor another notch. 

-You’d get blood on your suit, for one. And then, my mom would kill you.

A little shudder at the mention of Janet Drake, though the kid composed himself quickly- I wouldn’t let a single drop fall on me, cousin. I’m not an amateur.

Since Damian would have used another, more offensive word not so long ago, Tim ignored the pointed look he got when he said ‘amateur’. Also, the use of modern slang was something he was painstakingly drilling into him, so he was quiet proud when it bore fruits.

-Also, you’d draw attention to ourselves. And that woman didn’t even do anything worthy of such a reaction.

-She dared touch me! Treated me like, like… like a kid!

Pointing out that he, in fact, was one wouldn’t go well, so Tim’s mind offered an alternative route. 

-You don’t know? -he blurted out, feigning surprise. Damian looked up at him, eyes squinting suspiciously, and there, very well hidden (but not enough he didn’t notice) a little hesitancy.

-Know what?

Tim let go of the little, calloused hand, and placed both of his on the slimmer shoulders, bending down a bit to be face to face with his charge for the night. The blond wig and round glasses weren’t enough to hide Damian’s almost aristocratic features, but they sure managed to misdirect someone about his bloodline. No one would be able to tell he was Bruce Wayne and Talia al Ghul’s son, which was kinda the idea.

It had been a chore, to put the disguise in the proud boy, but Tim had been the one to achieve it when he dressed it as a training exercise: they had to make it through the party without its host, Mr Wayne, recognizing him.

Easy peasy, or so he had told mother when he assured her she could go make business with aunt Nicole and leave them be. He hadn’t calculated… well, other people.

-About Mrs Stingdom’s homeland.

Damian was too dignified to look over his shoulder at the lady in question, but Tim could see he wanted to.

-She’s a gothamite -he pointed out, because as Tim had suggested, he did his homework about who was attending to the party. A bit, at least. The story of so many boring socialites was too much to bear.

-She married a gothamite -he explained, doing his best to look stern about Damian’s apparent misinformation-. She’s actually from another land, which is why she pinched your checks. In her culture, it’s a sign of utmost respect towards people under ten years old who are still considered to be superiors, despite their age.

It sounded far fetched, even to his own ears, but he was playing into Damian’s social incompetency and his arrogance at believing himself above all others, which is why the kid nodded slowly after a few seconds, eating the whole lie in one bite.

His bespectacled eyes bore into his, brows furrowed. His hands went to Tim’s, still on his shoulders, a little unsure.

-Should I expect more of this… cultural difference? So I won’t be underprepared, should anyone else wish to pay me their respects in a new manner?

Sensing a chance to prevent a future stabbing, Tim was quick to nod. Mom was going to be so proud!

----.----

A little later that night, a new issue arose. Since Tim was pretty busy handling the seven year old, he had to forgo his usual Wayne-party routine, which was basically to find one of the sons and hide with them for the rest of the night.

Of course, neurotic bastards like them wouldn’t take a change in routine go like that. Because Bruce has instilled paranoia and curiosity on them like Alfred did with manners, and sadly, the last one’s teachings rarely showed up.

-Timmy! Here you are. I was worried, since you never approached us. Aww, who’s this kid? You made a friend?

He groaned internally. Dick, and behind him he could spot Jason, eyebrow arched at the novelty of Tim not looking for them immediately. He wanted to, thrived in the chance to spend even a few minutes with his idols, but duty calls, and his mind didn’t like the possibles outcomes would Damian and the Waynes meet.

-Hey, Dick… Jay. Good evening -he smiled politely, hand clutching tighter Damian’s. Don’t notice, don’t notice, please don’t notice.

To his immense relief, none of them seemed to find anything noteworthy in Damian’s face, which… was also kinda disappointing, despite him wishing for it. Like, yeah, the wig and glasses were good misdirect, but really? He would have noticed the similarities with Bruce despite them, and those two were supposedly detectives…

-Stop being so formal, kid -grumbled Jason, big hand making a mess of Tim’s styled hair. He would have complained, but… Jason’s voice and hand, okay? He was a weak teenager. Don’t judge him- Know ya since y’were  half that heigh, and lighter than my jacket.

Tim’s hormones ignored the comment on him being small, and  focused on the mental image of the mentioned jacket, most likely leather and well worn. 

…This was so not the time for  fantasizing. 

A tiny, calloused hand slapped Jason’s away, which promptly changed the mood.

-Don’t touch my cousin, you/

But Tim had prepared for this outcome, so his own hand rose just as quickly to cover Damian’s mouth.

At the word ‘cousin’, both heroes looked very interested. Tim was under no delusions, well aware Bruce and each of his adopted children had made their own background checks on him and his entire family, so they would know Damian’s claim to familiarity to be a lie, but they also couldn't really call them out on it without making it obvious they investigated him.

His head was already hurting for all the social maneuvering he had to do to keep out of trouble, and now, adding two concerned birds and one murderous kitten, it was even worse.

This was going to be a very, very long night. But both mom and Nicole had asked him, so he wouldn’t try to get out of being a (as) good (as possible) role model.

---------------.----------

Tim winced, muscles locking in a poor attempt at not showing it. From the look Conner gave him, at the other side of the room where he was being chewed out by Lex, he failed miserably at hiding his pain; which, in turn, enraged his mom even more.

-What. Did. You. DO?!

The hand not currently held by his mother went to his ear, protecting it from the almost demonic screech. He could see Auntie Nicole doing the same, sitting with Damian on the couch, sharing tea and cookies as they watched the whole show. The nine year old showed a surprising amount of sympathy towards Tim’s injuries, for someone who had been harshly trained since birth and had recently begun a career as vigilante (not that Tim was supposed to know about it, though). Or was it pity because of mom’s rage?

-You told me no tights and spandex! Never said anything about a mask and a hoodie, and Conner and the guys really needed my help with strategizing -he defended himself, because even if he shouldn't know about the waynes being heroes, he had been Conner’s friend since he found and subsequently freed him from Lex’s secret lab, which in turn warranted mom’s rule against heroing that he had just broke-. And don’t yell at me, I can hear you perfectly fine.

-I’M NOT YELLING! -she lied, tightening the bandage, scowl growing in power-, AND MASKS WERE IMPLIED AS A NO! Also, what are those if not thighs?

-Skinny jeans!

-They are indecent, that’s what they are!

On the other side of the room, Kon seemed to be having a less exhausting time than Tim. Lucky bastard, Luthor had less experience in parenthood, hadn’t yet reached the Scolding Mastery level.

-Hey! Auntie Nicole dresses like that -he points to the woman, who raises an eyebrow- and you don’t tell her anything! Look at her cleavage, you can almost see her bellybutton! 

-Leave me out of this -asked the woman, taking the teapot to refill Damian’s cup; he, in turn, handed her the cookies platter.

Ignoring her best friend, Janet snapped again- NICOLE ISN’T MY STUPID FOURTEEN YEAR OLD SON, WHO IS NEVER SEEING THE LIGHT OF DAY AGAIN!

-What light of day? This is Gotham, we don’t have sunlight anyway. And I’m not stupid, my IQ is higher than everyone’s in this room.

-IT SURELY LOOKS LIKE YOU ARE FROM WHERE I’M STANDING, HERE, RE-BANDAGING YOUR ARM!

Tim sighed, locking eyes with Conner in solidarity; or he wanted to, but the smug bastard’s scolding was over and he and Luthor had joined the Al Ghuls in their tea party.

-Come on, mom. This’ but a scratch.

-YOU GOT SEVEN STITCHES!!!! I can’t believe this.

She barely got her son out of vigilantism by monitoring his Wayne-Interaction and threats of boarding school and then he went and befriended a group of teen heroes and threw all her hard work straight to the trash. No, he skipped that part, he went directly to the dumpster and burried her good intentions under a pile of shit.

But really, she couldn’t very well make him entirely responsible of this, not when he got carried away by Conner’s ‘do the right thing’ speech. And Conner had came into their lives because of…

In blind rage, she finished her patch job on her son’s arm and turned in a flash to face Lex, whose face went quickly from amused to scared.

-WHY DID YOU THINK IT WAS A GOOD IDEA TO HAVE A KID WITH SUPERMAN?

Sensing she was done with him, Tim went to sit by Kon, who moved a bit on his individual couch so they could share it, though it was a very tight fit.

-Clone -he corrected helpfully, TTK bringing Tim his coffee cup closer.

-Did I stutter? And I wasn’t talking to you, was I?

Nicole seemed like she was having the time of her life right now- So hey, listen, between you and LITERAL SUPERMAN, who was the one on the receiving end when you pictured yourself having a kid with him? Like, who was getting it? Because, pal, odds aren’t in your favor, you know.

-Don’t be stupid, dear -huffed Janet, looking at her friend’s green eyes and calming don infinitesimally- If he was actually getting it, he wouldn't have resorted to having his kid to get his attention.

-IT’S A CLONE, AND I ABSOLUTELY DIDN’T MAKE HIM TO GET THAT ALIEN’S ATTENTION! He’s my enemy, not my lover, what is wrong with you people.

-Am I a divorce-preventing baby? -asked Kon to Tim, raising an eyebrow. The other kid just shrugged.

-Looks like it. Not like Uncle Lex had any other way to keep Superman from leaving him…

-I’m right here.

-I know, Uncle Lex. I love you, but you need to rethink your choices. If the man wants to go, let him go. Kon doesn’t need any brothers. I can’t deal with more of him, one is more than enough.

#Janet Drake au #janet drake is a good mom #Tim Drake #janet drake #Nicole Al Ghul (oc) #Damian Wayne #conner kent #lex luthor #dick grayson #Jason Todd #Janet is close to having a panic attack #or yknow #murdering lex for making this happen #lex just wanted a weapon against superman NOT a divorce-preventive baby #pre Janet/nicole #tim isn't a hero but he's friends with a few so sometiems he helps #THEY ARE STUPID MOM THEY'D DIE WITHOUT MY HELP I 'HAD' TO HELP THEM

[creativityandcrying]

The SSSS: Chapter 4: Monsters,Mice and Media oh my

"Y'all have money for the L right? The Secret Note is a whiles away." Cj asks, looking up from google maps.

"Yessiree! I'll cover for Octo ,since I'm very sure she forgot her wallet." Winston says, glancing over at Octavia, who's patting her pockets and bra anxiously. Looking up at Winston, she gives him a sheepish smile.

"Winniee?" She draws out the nickname, smiling knowingly when Winston rolls his eyes.

"Called it. And I gotchu Wolfie, don't sweat it." He sighs. CJ laughs and pats his shoulder gratefully before getting out their wallet.

"Thanks dude." They say, gently starting to herd everyone into the line. Everyone starts to swipe there cards without much trouble. Other then Winston's card not working correctly, causing Tessa to snicker when Winston silently gets annoyed. Octavia goes through the turnstile then squints at the LED sign near the benches, reading what it says while Tessa goes through the turnstile.Eyes widening Octavia turns back to Cj, who was helping Winston swipe his card.

"Blue line's about to leave!" Octavia says, getting the others attention.

"Shit! Come on!" CJ grabs Winston's card out of his hands and tries swiping it, after a few stressful moments.....

....the card finally works. Winston shoves through the turnstile, grabbing CJ's hand, while Octavia does the same to Tessa, the two immortals speeding through the other people while basically dragging their friends along. Tumbling inside an empty carriage the four friends catch their breath as the doors close after one last warning.

"The fastest way to get to Jay Blvd is to get off at Logan," CJ says, checking the map before sitting down. They lay their legs across four seat, stretching their limbs.

"We have about 15 to 20 minutes till we get there so we have a bit of time to chill the fuck out." CJ checks the map once more before putting their phone away and leaning against an armrest, closing their eyes. Winston plops down and starts watching YouTube, the Irish swearing quietly coming from his phone. Octavia grins before looking around the train car.

"There's always cool stuff people forget on trains to snatch." She mumbles, rubbing her hands together like a cliche Disney villain. Eyes searching the car, they spot something. Skipping over to a row of seats, Octavia reaches under it, her hand grasping something. Pulling out a discarded baseball bat, she glances at the closed eyed CJ, a mischievous smile growing on her face.

"CJ!!" Octavia shouts, "Catch!" She abruptly throws the bat at her friend. CJ's eyes pop open, catching the bat instinctively. Octavia starts laughing at CJ's surprised expression, eyes wide and mouth open. Tessa chuckles at her goblin ways before deciding to lay her head on Winstons lap, feet propped up on a handlebar.

"Get some of that energy out, you look like you're going to bounce off the walls." Winston says with a laugh, taking note of Octavia's sudden fidgeting hands and pacing. She bares a fanged grin before pulling herself up on the higher bars and perching herself on the metal. Gripping the bars Octavia swings herself upside down, years of gymnastics coming into play. A simple hum makes its way out of Octavia, the tune catchy and upbeat.

"Oh that's so coooool~So coooool~My computer can't handle the rendering!! " She then starts to sing, ignoring CJs groans when Winston & Tessa starts to sing along.

"There's nothing I like more than space! So let's blow something up here!" He shout-sings with Tessa, pausing his video to dance in his seat. The three singers look pointedly at CJ, eyes asking the silent question.

"If there was a program for volunteers to go into space ~With like a hundred percent chance of dying from death by space" CJ smiles and starts to sing along.

"~I would be first in line~If they needed brave volunteers~Or stupid volunteers~I would be there so fast!!! " The cart is full of laughter and singing, CJ queuing up more songs through their Bluetooth speaker.

The train conductors voice suddenly buzzes over the intercom, destroying the vibe.

"Please, zzz-zz calm- zzzhzh creature-" The train cart goes silent, the four only now hearing the screams a few carts away.

"You threw off my groove!" Octavia whispers to her self, restraining a smile.

"We're at the brown stop,or at least some the train is. So we need to go '' CJ ignores Octavia and snaps at everyone, grabbing their new bat. They shove Tessa and Winston into the next car, hurrying them. Winston unsheathed his sword from his backpack as he ran from train car to train car, arriving at the train-station first. Octavia is close behind, sliding to a stop next to Winston. Tessa steps behind Winston and Octavia, while CJ steps beside them all, their music still playing.

People are screaming and clamoring, running over each other to get away from the destruction. Winston surveys the platform before pointing his sword at Tessa, getting her attention instantly.

"T! Get People Out of here! Do not get hurt! Keep everyone away from us!" He shouts over the ruckus, before glancing at the other two.

"Octo, CJ! Let's see if we can shut this down quickly." CJ nods seriously and grips their bat. Octavia nods as well, eyes flitting around. A giant rodent creature slashes at the ground, letting loud squeaks and biting benches and pillars with its sharp teeth. Winston adjusts his stance, readying his sword.

Suddenly rushing forward, he takes the large mouse-like monster by surprise. Its furry face gets sliced by a swing of his sword. While its squealing in pain, CJ slides closer and bashes its head, the bat getting spider web like cracks when it makes contact. Gripping it even tighter, CJ ignores the damage done.

"O!" Winston screams, diving in to attack again but not seeing his green haired friend. Tessa immediately tenses at the worried tone but continues to herd people up to the streets, shoving  phones away from the fight.

"I'll get paid so much for this vid!" A teen boy yells, a brace filled grin shining at Tessa.

"You wont get any money if you're dead! Go!" Tessa yells back, pushing the boys phone down and ushers him away.

"Leave! Someone might get killed in this fight and I sure as hell don't want it to be y'all!" She shouts again. The civilians suddenly scatter, running up the stairs. Tess doesn't notice the large wiry tail about to come down near her.

"O!" Winston screams again when he spots the blonde about to be hit with heavy rubble. He smiles in relief when he sees Octavia.

A huge wolf, hulking and covered in bright green fur with eye-catching swirls of neon blue, pink and orange. Purple eyes glowing in anger and white fangs bared, a low growl rumbling from her chest. Razor sharp claws scratch on the tiles loudly as she comes bounding towards her girlfriend, using her large body to shield Tessa from the heavy rubble that rains down. Octavia snarls and growls at the rodent monster before launching onto its tail biting down, drawing blood.

"Hell yea!" CJ lets out an excited whoop, sidestepping to avoid the rubble. Tessa climbs on a mountain of rubble and uses her height to continue to force people to evacuate.

Octavia pounces onto the monsters side, digging her claws into the fur while bright fangs bite into its flesh. The monster trying to shake Octavia off, without much luck.

Winston runs up close, taking advantage of the distraction. He jumps from a bench to its face, raising his sword and stabbing its eye. CJ ignores the painful shrieks and hits the other eye with their bat, the wood splintering and breaking. It squeals in pain before rising onto its hind legs, banging its head on the concrete ceiling, making more stone to rain down. Falling back down to all fours the shrieks get indescribably louder before rushing to soft whimper until its silence.

Octavia unlatches from the rodent and with bared teeth she lets out a furious snarl, fur raised and hind legs positioned to pounce.

"Octavia." Tessa had cleared everyone away from the chaos and was approaching her tensed girlfriend.

"Come on O. '' CJ says calmly, keeping a good distance away from the tensed wolf. Tessa gets close to the ready to attack canine, rubbing behind her ears and leaning her face against Octavia's soft neck.

"It's alright now babe, you can come back." Tessa whispers into her fur, pulling away and placing a hand on Octavia's snout, the neon blue fur soft under her palm. Octavia let out a huff before backing away. She starts to shift back, the fur melting into skin and claws softening into fingernails. Finally its a teenager girl on the ground instead of an animal.

"You good Wolfie?" Winston asks teasingly, wiping his sword off casually before putting it away.

"Frick off playboy." Octavia spits back harshly,the insult softened by her grin. Tessa helps her girlfriend off the ground, hugging her close before slinging an arm around her shoulder.

"Wanna just catch the bus? I don't think the L will be running anytime soon." Winston says casually, looking at the disaster around them. CJ barks out a loud belly laugh before patting Winston on his shoulder.

"Come on, I'll pay for the bus." they say, slinging their arms over the girls' shoulders and leading them out into the streets.

#The Adventures of Winston and Tessa #The SSSS

[a-coulter-winchester]

For Sale: Dead ends

Warnings: Some confrontation and excitement. 

Sunlight filled the room, birds chirped somewhere in a tree nearby. The hum of a car on the road droned off into the distance. Miles popped his head up and huffed at something out the bedroom window. The room was mostly peaceful except the soft snores and leveled breathing coming from you.

“I LOVE BOOMERANGS!” You shot up in a blaze of glory as a loud drilling noise came from across your window.

Miles was howling and barking at the intrusive sounds. You had fallen asleep with your laptop. The sound was starting to give you a headache or the lack of sleep was. You swallowed trying to wet your throat and pushed the laptop off your lap. You checked your phone to see that it was eight in the morning.

“Miles, who the hell drills at 8 am??” You hissed your grogginess was quickly replaced with anger. 

Your back and neck felt stiff from the awkward position you had slept in. Stomping towards the window you observed the situation in shock. You could see straight into Eric’s bedroom and he could see right into yours if he wanted to.

There he stood directly in front of the window. He didn’t have a shirt on, he had what looked to be a pair of boxers or pajamas bottoms on. The V peaking out of his waist band lead your eyes to his beautiful sculpted abs. You subconsciously bit your lip while studying every little detail of his perfect body.

In that moment you completely forgot about what a jerk your neighbor was. All you could think about was how much you wanted to run your tongue over his... your thoughts were broken as you made eye contact with him. He was staring right at you and even stopped drilling. His eyes seemed to see right through you. 

“Shit.” You awkwardly turned and then did a little 360 spin to face him again.

You pulled your window open and tried to throw on your best angry face. He copied you and shoved his window open before leaning out the window picking up on the fact that you were about to yell at him.

“Can you not drill this early in the morning?” Your blood boiled as he smirked at you and looked down for a moment.

“Are you sure you don’t want to join me in here? You can get a better look that way.” He said holding onto the ledge of the window. His broad shoulders made the frame look a lot smaller. His muscles tightened with his grip on the frame giving you every detail of his hard body. 

“Wha-N-no. No! I was still waking up. Ew no thank you.” Infuriated at the comment you slammed the window shut and turned to leave the room. The drill started back up and now the image of the beautiful jerks smug smile stained your mind. “No just a dumb jerk Y/N, he’s not beautiful!”

You weren’t sure how he could literally threaten you to stay off his property and then to turn around the next day just to tease you about coming over.

A sigh left your lips as you stomped down the stairs. Annoyed with the events of the morning had you craving a hot fresh pot of coffee. While the coffee brewed you propped your elbows on the table leaning your face between your fingers. You gently massaged your temples wishing the kitchen would have been your quiet safe haven yet all you could still hear was his stupid power tools.

As If possessed you cradled your cup and walked out your front door. Was there peace on your porch? Not, now the sound seemed to echo from there so you let your feet carry you to your car which was parked on the street luckily instead of your garage. You climbed in lazily and shut the door with sigh as the sound was drowned out. You sipped on the thick warm liquid in peace while trying to recollect your thoughts. Surprisingly you had very little success in digging up any information on your Hot but Jerk of a neighbor.  He had somehow managed to keep a substantial amount of information off the internet.  

All you knew was that he was an ex-Marine and worked for Dauntless Inc. the rival company of Divergents International. That was also apparently where Four and Tris worked.  Once your coffee mug was empty you sighed and opened the car door reluctantly you had to get some work done. You prayed that he would be silent now as most of your work would be done at home from your laptop. To your surprise it was completely quiet. 

You managed to get a few hours of work done and decided it was time to take sweet little Miles out, who has been so patiently cooped up. Things seemed quiet over at the handsome devils house yet you didn’t want to assume he was out of his house.  Knowing your luck he would be creeping through his house trying to figure out how he’d control the neighborhood next. Keeping Miles close you let your thoughts drift, it was a really nice warm day out with a perfect breeze.  The Neighborhood was mostly quiet except for the distant buzzing of someone mowing their lawn, the occasional car passing by and birds chirping back and forth. 

“Hey.” Four called out walking up the hill. You shook off your trance and smiled politely at him. 

“Hi Neighbor.” You chuckled watching as he stopped a few feet away from you. 

“How was your first night?” Four asked. shifting as he looked around for a moment then back to you.

“Good...until about the ass crack of dawn.” You partially joked but there was a heavy dose of annoyance in your tone. 

“Yeaah.. He’s going to try and push all your buttons. Don’t let him.” Both of you nodded in agreement about the asshole to the left of you.  

“Why don’t you come over tonight for dinner. Will and Christine are coming. it’s a BBQ thing.”  Four offered and inside you were excited to hear that. Eric was starting to make you uneasy. 

“Yeah sure. it’d be nice to make some friends.” You smiled and crossed your arms. 

“Ok. See you at 7:00.”  You barely heard what Four said as You caught movement out of your eye. 

Miles decided the best place to poop was in the one  yard that could end up being fatal for him. You felt frozen not wanting to yell to draw Eric out but also wanting to hurry up and get your dog. Four stood there next to you probably assessing the situation. You began to move before he reached out and gently gripped your arm. 

“Wait..” Four whispered. His eyes searched the premises and the house as best as he could.  “Go low.”  He advised and so you took a minute before crouching down. 

You made it to the hedges and froze again this time at the sound of the door to Eric’s house creaking open.

“Fuck!” You hissed and faltered before bolting towards your dog. You caught Eric in your peripherals He grinned and bit his lip in a ominous way. 

He bolted across the lawn directly towards you covering more ground than you could of imagined. He was quickly closing in on you. Your heart raced and your vision tunneled in on Miles who had just finished crapping on Satan’s lawn. Your hands wrapped around Miles clutching him quickly to you. 

A yelp left your lips as you sunk to the neatly manicured lawn to embrace the impact of Eric’s body. Nothing happened except for a very gruff  “Oomph.” Followed by a hard thud. You turned to see Eric and Four wrestling on the ground. 

“Y/N! Run!” Four yelled and you didn’t hesitate, you took off and B lined straight for your door.

You shut and lock the door panting and still cradling Miles close to your chest. Your legs burned as you took off up the stairs finally in the safety of your room. Worried about Four and the tussle you experienced outside you gathered your wits and took a peek out the window. The Lawn was empty and there was no sounds. No police sirens, sounds of pummeling or two brute men having a heated conversation. You sighed and started to pull back out of the window when your heart leapt up into your throat. Eric was glaring at you through his window.

He was angry and it made you feel many things. Your fear made sense but the heat spreading between your thighs is what confused you. “Shut the curtain and walk away!” A small voice in the back of your head screamed.  

“Four won’t always be there to protect you. Next time I see you outside, You’re Mine!” He hissed and slammed his window shut. Hard enough to break the glass but it stayed in tact. 

Everything felt weird, You should have been feeling more afraid. Angry even to be threatened. Maybe it was shock. You couldn’t figure out what he meant by that. That threat could have meant so many things.  Not only did you need to Thank Four but you needed answers from all of them at the BBQ tonight. how dangerous was Eric.. The more you thought about it the more you felt something odd stirring inside of you. Something that was almost curious to push Eric’s buttons back to see how far he would really go. You took a deep breath and tried to calm your nerves chalking it up to being an Adrenaline rush.  

Tags: @o0idk0o @iammarylastar @every-jai @angeli-fucking-cat @shitfire599 @12monkees @maddisach

#Eric Au #eric divergent #Eric Coulter #four divergent #jai courtney fanfic #jai courtney #Eric fanfic #divergent fanfiction #Tris Prior #eric x reader #divergent fandom #theo james

[dandrabbles]

Study Hall - Scene 1

The gay bar was built in the hollowed out bones of an IHOP. That’s how Jacob pitched the spot to Rat. Midnight in Jacob’s bed, just a mattress on the floor, Jacob’s fingers twined into the chain of Rat’s dog tags. He brought it up in that way Jacob had, too casual not to be planned. He was always pushing an angle.

“You’ve seen it. Out back of the Plaza. Shares the parking lot with Staples,” Jacob said.

“Yeah I’ve seen it,” Rat said. “What about it?”

“We go Wednesdays,” Jacob’s head rested in the bend of Rat’s shoulder, but now he glanced up. Jacob’s face was roughened and boyish. Large blue eyes, nose bent crooked along the bridge from too many breaks. A fading black eye set off the freckles on his pale face. When he smiled his lips pulled back on the right side to flash his missing cuspid. He lost the tooth last year, when their buddy, America chucked a full water bottle at his face. Even covered in blood, Jacob had laughed so hard he got light headed. Right then, looking up at him in bed, Jacob reminded Rat of a kid on Christmas. All hopeful wonder before he sees the empty space beneath the tree, same as it was last year. “You should come. Homework, the crew, your very cute boyfriend,” Jacob said. There was the angle.

Rat took Jacob’s fingers and unwrapped the chain from around them. “You know what I’m gonna say,” Rat said.

“You could still come.”

Rat rubbed the heel of his palm against his eye, trailed his fingers back and up through his buzzed hair. “Dad’s back in town this week.” He wished they’d just gone to sleep instead of fucking. He never slept after sex and all Jacob ever wanted to do was push things that were better left alone. “There’s no doing it.”

“So you don’t tell him. What’s the fucking deal? You don’t tell him anything anyway.”

“He’s never finding out.”

“Exactly, so—.”

Rat shoved him off. Jacob didn’t make a sound when he hit the mattress. He just lay there, his messy, bottle-black hair fanned out against the sheets. Soft yellow light from the streetlamp outside cut through the blinds and spliced the bed, the two of them, in shades of gold and navy. They could have been two characters out of the detective movies Rat’s mom loved to watch. Old black and whites with PIs that drank and smoked and never got sloppy off of it. There was always that one shot, maybe the femme fatale had come on screen, and the PI said something particularly biting but charming to get her attention, and then it’d cut to the PI, real close on his face, with hard light through the blinds that cast him in stripes. That’s how you knew he was a man on the edge but in control. Light and dark all mixed together.

“It’s not happening,” Rat said.

“Then why’re you here?” Jacob said.

“What do you want me to say?” Rat gestured towards the ceiling. He wouldn’t look at Jacob. “Oh, it’s because I love you, Jay. Clearly. I just can’t live without you, so here I am.” He pressed the heels of his palms against his closed lids until colors bloomed across his vision. “You’re not usually this stupid.”

“Fuck you.” Jacob swung his legs over the mattress, folding them so he was cross-legged half-off the bed.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” Rat said.

“You’re such a prick.”

“Thought that’s why you love me, sweetheart.”

Jacob sighed, his whole body tightening around the whoosh of his breath. “I need a smoke,” he said.

Rat rolled onto his stomach and tugged his backpack over with one hand. He rummaged without looking, found his lighter and stash. Didn’t ask Jacob before he lit up. He took two drags and pinched it, held it out across the bed. “C’mon, then,” he said, wheezing around the smoke.

Jacob waited long enough that Rat’s arm started to burn, but he took the joint all the same. He didn’t bother holding the first draw, blowing it into Rat’s face. Rat wrapped an arm around Jacob’s shoulders and eased him back into bed. They lay like that for a while, sometimes kissing, blowing lazy smoke between their mouths to try and spark passion, until the moment was dead and the roach lay forgotten.

“So your dad’s back Wednesday,” Jacob said. His eyes were closed and so were Rat’s, and Rat considered ignoring the bait.

“Yeah,” Rat said. “Ma’s got the place cleaned up and everything.”

“They tell you why?”

“Guy on the phone told Ma they gave Dad a medal.”

“What kind?” Jacob said.

Rat opened his eyes and stared into the fuzzy grey of one AM. “The type they give someone that got blown up,” he said.

#dan writes #writblr #writeblr #scene #short story

[unapologeticallyjaylos]

Jaylos June Day #5

@jaylosjune2018 : fifth prompt (bonus), June 21st - “The Universe told me that you were my soulmate - fluff/romance

Everyone had one.

Everyone.

It was Auradon’s most sacred piece of remaining magic, embedded so deep in their blood that no law could remove it.

“Who gives a damn,” had been Mal’s response. “Call it whatever you want, they're just tattoos, even though no one here seems to think so. And I’ve already got a shitload of those.” That got a laugh from Jay, his own tattoos well outnumbering those of the mainland kids as well.

“Well I think it’s romantic.” Evie had read enough romance novels - trashy and classic - to recognize the difference between regular ink and a soulmate mark. “My mom would freak if she knew though - she never wanted so much as a freckle blemishing my skin.”

The marks didn't matter much to Carlos, with their “forever” implications. At least not until he got one. Scary enough, his mark wasn't like any of the ones he’d seen in Auradon so far, with their dainty little outlines and pretty swirls. His was heavy handed, created with broad strokes, intense and powerful. He hadn’t seen it appear either, only looked down one morning to see a terrifying and familiar cobra winding its way up his wrist.

He wasn't stupid. He knew who it belonged to, who it represented. Deep down, he’d always sort of known he’d liked boys, but to see Jay’s sign on his wrist - it was nothing short of petrifying.

How could he tell the most gorgeous boy in his life that he’d landed the nerdy, pathetic de Vil boy as his apparent “soulmate”? How could he possibly put into words what he felt when they made eye contact or entered a room side by side to brave the world or the silent check-ins they’d do for each other?

His solution showed up in the form of an anxious teenage girl.

“I think- I think you're my soulmate, Carlos!” Jane looked just about ready to pass out as she waved her wrist in front of his face. There were obviously some marks there, although he had no idea what they had to do with him.

“Swords,” she explained, her words tumbling over each other. “You're from the Isle. Your mother tried to skin dogs with knives! It all makes sense.”

It didn't make sense, it made absolutely no sense. But it was a solution nonetheless. Soon enough, foundation covered the snake on his wrist and a new mark was drawn in permanent marker, something more suitable for the fairy he was supposedly dating now.

Wings were better than a cobra, he told himself. So much better. Although exactly why, he couldn’t say. Maybe because they were what everyone expected him to have, they were normal, right? Perfect.

All of Auradon seemed to agree; they told him constantly how cute he and Jane were together.

“You guys are adorable,” Audrey would assure him daily. “You just - fit! No wonder you’re soulmates. The two little nerds.”

Funny enough, the only person who didn’t go on and on about how well they worked was Jay himself.

“Hanging in there?” He’d ask, his voice oh, so comforting and safe. Carlos wanted nothing more than to tell him the truth, the truth burning under the layers of makeup on his wrist and dying to be out in the open.

“As best I can,” he’d reply with a sigh. “Every day gets a little easier.”

Carlos had almost convinced himself that there had been a mistake, that perfect, sweet Jane really was his soulmate, not Jay. Unfortunately, the universe had other plans.

Even without the mark, Carlos had never liked to share the locker room with the rest of the tourney team. Between his scars and insecurities, the vulnerability of being naked in front of the other guys was just a little too much. But Jay had always stayed with him, long after the others had left, and Carlos had never had a problem with it. Welcomed it, actually. But lately, he’d had to come up with excuses to send him away: forgetting Dude’s leash, his underwear, a sweatshirt, anything to get him running back to the dorm to leave the locker room empty for Carlos to redraw his new soulmark.

Today, he’d sent Jay back for a shirt he had “accidentally” left on the bed, and off the thief had sprinted.

Sitting down on the one of the benches, Carlos pulled a makeup kit out from behind his gear, complete with a marker and a picture of the very first time he’d drawn it for reference. Carlos had gotten very good at drawing his simple little mark, so much so that he almost didn’t need the picture anymore.

“Hey, ‘Los, I just remembered, I got an extra t-shirt in my locker, you can just wear - what the fuck?”

The freckled boy flinched so hard he knocked the rest of the makeup onto the floor, his mark only partially covered. His heart beat had taken over for his ears, silencing nearly everything else as he scrambled backwards, away from Jay who’d just reentered the locker room.

“T-this isn’t - it’s not what you think -”

“Really?” Jay picked up the reference image, frowning. “Because it looks like you’re drawing on that fucking soulmark. Holy shit, Jane - she’s not your soulmate is she?”

Carlos could feel himself losing control, he felt the situation slipping out of his hands. He’d retreated as far as he could, his back slamming into the cold metal lockers.

“‘Los, oh god, hey, I’m not gonna tell anyone.” Jay stayed right where he was, his voice suddenly very low. “Do you - do you have a different mark?”

“Y-yes.” Carlos’ wrist was clutched tightly behind his back.

Don’t ask me to show it to you. Please.

“Does… it have anything to do with why this appeared last month?” Jay lifted his shirt and grabbed a makeup wipe from the bench, rubbing away at a patch. As the foundation rubbed away, he saw that a pawprint had been inked on the tan skin.

“You - that’s - your soulmark… is mine… ” Words didn’t seem to be forming coherently in Carlos’ mouth. All he knew was the mark on Jay’s torso had to belong to him. “I’m so sorry…”

“Sorry?” Jay shook his head. “What on earth are you sorry for? You’re my best friend, my favorite person in the world, damnit ‘Los, I thought there had been a mistake! You have mine, don’t you? My sign?”

Very slowly, Carlos brought his wrist out into the light, the cobra just as apparent as it had been from day one. He searched the thief’s face for any sign of disappointment or anger, but found none. Just something that looked a lot like happiness, the corners of his mouth quirking up in a grin.

“Fuck, de Vil, I knew it was you. The universe told me that you were my soulmate.”

“No, I'm pretty sure the little mark on your skin did.” Now that the initial shock had worn off, warmth came surging back into Carlos’ veins.

“Well, the universe put the mark there, so riddle me that, smartass.”

“Yeah, yeah, do we kiss now?”

The thief snorted, his hands finally reaching out to pull Carlos in. Their kiss was long, sloppy, and very overdue.

“What’re you gonna tell Jane?” Jay mumbled finally, pulling back just enough to see Carlos’ eyes.

“The truth.” Never in his life had the freckled boy felt more secure. “That my soulmate has a dick.”

#jaylos #jaylosjune #jaylos june 2018 #jay descendants #carlos descendants #writing

[blessyourheartdharps]

band-aids don’t fix bullet holes but they do cover bites || Platonic Soulmates

who: Dani Harper & Abel Hayward

when: 8/25/18 - night (I literally forgot to post this)

where: their house ; Dani’s room

what: after an argument, Dani bit herself and Abel fixes her up

warnings: blood, depression, technically this is self harm, mentions of death and abuse

It was stupid, the way she felt. She knew he had a point. She knew he was right, but she was frustrated. Dani had never had this issue. Never had to worry about hurting someone like this. Whatever was happening with Mercedes was weird. It was wrong, but not in the way it should be. Dani knew Mercedes deserved the world and that Dani wasn't that. She was a wreck and that wouldn't change anytime soon. In truth, it was likely not to ever fully change. Abuse stayed with a person and that mistrust, especially with people who talked to her drunk was part of it. It sucked. And she'd gotten frustrated and bit her arm, hard. She'd tasted the blood fast but hadn't let go until Abel was gone. Until she'd heard  the door close. His words felt like a kick to the gut and she'd ended up just getting up and going into her room, door locked tight behind her. She didn't even look at her arm, she knew it was bleeding, but she wasn't going to deal with it. She deserved to hurt. So, she'd laid on the floor, her depression playlist blasting and closed her eyes, letting the darkness and the lyrics consume her.  It started with Pain by Three Days Grace and then transitioned into Sharp Edges by Linkin Park as she let everything sink in, doing her best to ignore the feeling of blood running down her arm onto the wood floor beneath her.

Abel knew he was out of line when he told her that things, but he knew that if he didnt try, he would be watching his best friend going after someone and it somehow turned on a switch for something, that he didnt know. He hadnt discussed what he told Dani yet in therapy. When he got to his car, he hit his hand against his car and he groaned out of pain. He let out a breath, knew that he couldnt be running off somewhere else when Dani was this down. He headed back into the house, ignored the pain in his hand and closed his door once he was in there. He put his headphones on, started to play songs from Aaliyah and turned up the volume as he tried to ignore the pain and tried to draw. He kept messing up and it still wasn't getting any better. He turned down his music some, placed his headphones around his neck and swallowed hard as he gotten up. Abel knew that he needed to check on Dani, since he didnt leave and he felt bad for doing so. He headed into their bathroom, grabbed the first aid kit and headed to her door. He tried to open the door, but it was locked. He rested his forehead against the door, let out a breath as he closed his eyes. "Dani! If you don't open the door, I will kick it down! I dont feel like replacing a door at the moment!"

The music continued to play, her arm still bleeding onto the floor, as she lay there. So much of her begged her to get up, to change the music, to clean up the blood , to patch up her arm, to stop hating herself. But she couldn't. The exhaustion of the day mixed with need to not feel but also feel, kept her from doing it. If she let herself bleed, this was just an accident. This would keep her from doing it on purpose. Because she as scared she would. Scared that if she fixed the bleeding, she'd just want to make it a new escape. Even as she heard Abel yell at her through the door, she just continued to lay there. She cared but she didn't. She couldn't let him in. Couldn't let him near. She was scared of what she might do to him.

"Dani Harper, get your ass off of the floor and let me in. So I can bandaged that up! Im seriously going to kick down the door if you don't let me in five minutes!" Abel shouted over her music and knew that he needed to get into her room. "Seriously, I don't really want to replace a door, but I will if you just continue to lay there! Also, I don't want to explain the blood that would be stained on the floor!" He placed the kit in his left hand as he gotten in position and looked at his left wrist. "Five..four..This is your last chance!"

His words had her huffing and she got up, ignoring the way she felt the blood change direction towards her palm. Swallowing she stared at the door, trying to convince herself to do it, to open the door, to let him in. As he started to count down she turned the lock, and opened the door, simultaneously turning on her heel and going back to her spot in the middle of the room, sinking back to the floor. Clenching her fist she grimaced at the feeling of blood on her hand. It was worse than she'd thought. There wasn't a lot of blood on the floor, most of it still on her arm, but there was enough to warrant needing cleaning up.

Abel raised one of his legs up as he kept an eye on the door and looked up when he saw Dani. He turned off his headphones, placed them on a box as he headed into her room, being careful not to step in the blood and turned off the music. "I'll get that cleaned up after I clean you up." He replied softly as he ignored the pain in his hand before he started to pull out what he needed and started to clean her arm up once he put on gloves. "Im sorry for saying that and then leaving you. Something clicked and I knew that I needed to get away from you, but I hit my hand against my car. So that's karma kicking my ass for you." He whispered as he grabbed another wipe and looked at her. "Why did you bite your hand? I mean, I would get it if you bit my hand, but why yours?"

Dani didn't even really respond as Abel turned off the music or started talking, all too fascinated by the blood on her arm. the bite mark in her arm. She'd never actually broken skin that badly before. It was weird. "I don't know... I was frustrated and I didn't really have anything to scream into and I don't know the sound proofing in this place so like my arm just seemed like the best way to muffle that but... I bit harder than normal. Cause I do it a lot when I don't want people to hear me scream..." She couldn't look at him, even as he cleaned up her arm, instead focusing her eyes on her own arm, what he was doing. "I'm sorry."

Abel listened to her, glanced up at her and looked back at the bite. "You could always scream into my chest next time, okay? Or even into my arm. Anything besides biting at your own skin." He said softly as he raised an eyebrow as she spoke and looked at her. "No need to apologize, D." He grabbed a bandage and placed it over it. "It doesnt look too deep for stitches, but if it worse. I advise for us to go to minor care and see what they can give you, since you're recovering." He took off the gloves before he put on new gloves to clean up the blood. "Also, I hear going outside and screaming might be a good idea. However, not around here, obviously or they might call the police."

Dani sighed as he spoke. "Felt like I deserved it, I guess. Always do. It's easier, attacking my own body. I control how bad I get hurt. I don't hurt someone else." She shrugged a bit as he said she didn't need to apologize. Maybe she didn't, but she felt like she did. "Yeah, I guess." Dani hated the idea of going to minor care, or really anywhere, where the reasoning behind her actions would be questioned. Yes, she was getting help. Yes, she was recovering from multiple addictions. Yes, she was a domestic abuse survivor. No, this would not save her from being admitted to the psych ward. That was the last thing she wanted, to be locked away like that. "That's why I didn't just scream, cause God forbid the neighbors heard. That's the last thing we need right after moving in."

Abel paused his movements and let out a breath. "Dani, you don't deserve any of this shit thats happening. I know me saying it wont change your mind, but honestly. You dont deserve heartache or anything like this. Especially attacking yourself, when you're punishing yourself.  Its not right. Im gonna see about installing a kickboxing bag down in the basement. I know it wont solve all of our problems, but it will be a step." He looked at her, swallowed hard before he started to clean the blood. "Im sure they would probably think we were watching some show and get pissed because let's be honest. We've done that before. Besides, it wouldnt be anything surprising since we're living in New York and people screamed at each other before."

Dani pulled her knees to her chest, resting her head on her good arm. "Attacking myself is better than hurting you. I hate hurting other people, but especially the people I love." She sighed. "I normally don't break skin anyway, but now I'm scared. Scared I'll do it on purpose. Cause I've felt the pain and the relief and the feeling without feeling..."Dani closed her eyes for a moment then breathed out. "I need to get back into derby so bad. Get back to being physical like that. The extra energy is causing problems. Problems we don't need."

"I can take it. I dont look like it, but I can take it." Abel said with a shrug and looked back at the spot as she talked, hoping it wouldnt leave a stain. "Then make sure to talk about it in therapy." He paused as he looked back at her before he slowly nodded. "We've got 99 problems but a bitch aint one." Abel hoped it would make her smile but he knew better than that. "Sorry, I thought it was appropriate since we're in New York and Jay-Z is from NY. Yeah, you definitely need to get back into Roller Derby because honestly, you need it and we need it as a family. Like I need to get back into working out and doing shit that makes me focus my energy into something." He paused as he bit his inner cheek. "I wonder if Saph can give me a number of a celebrity trainer who is willing to come here and help me get back into the gym. I honestly need to get a manager so that way Saph doesnt need my shit on top of everyone else's." He looked at Dani. "So, will I be expecting you in my bed? Or you?" He asked when he heard Batman near the door. "Also, if you want, we can change his last name again before I leave town. If I leave town." He sighed.(edited)

Dani groaned, shaking her head. "So could the bitch, but that doesn't mean I want to take it out on you. I didn't even want to take it out on her and she fucking deserved it most of the time." It was true. Dani hated the way her and Angela would fight, even if Angela started it. It was something Dani hated doing and it made her feel sick, more than the thought of relapsing with self harm tended to. She tilted her head at him. "Yeah and I'm sure they can, though if Saph is the kind of person I've been told they are, your shit isn't an issue." Dani could remember the things Puck and Quinn had told her and it seemed reasonable that Saph was the kind of person who took on the weight of the world for everyone. She furrowed her brows and stood up, walking so she was in front of him before making it so she was on eye level with him. "We will figure the dark knight name situation AFTER you get back from picking our girl up. None of this if you leave town bullshit."

Abel relaxed a bit before he started to attack the stain again. "I know and to be fair, she still deserves it." He pointed out once the stain was gone and took off his gloves. "Saph is and I know, but they need a break from everything." He watched her get to eye level with him. "Will you be here when we get back? Because I need you to promise me that you will go to all of your appointments while Im gone."

Dani sighed. "Maybe, but the less I have to think about her, the better. She's my past and as painful as that is, as hard as it will be to get over, I will. Given enough time." Dani nodded a bit as he talked about Saph. "I can almost guarantee they've had quite the break while in Lima." She smiled at him gently and held out her pinky to him. "I, Danielle Maria Harper, promise you that not only will I be here when you get back, still clean and sober and harm free, but that this house will be perfect for our family when you do. That I will go to my appointments, even if it means having Hunter force me." Her face was serious and sincere as she spoke, looking him directly in the eyes.

Abel listened to her and gave her a smile. "I know, you can do it. Remember, baby steps." He nodded. He raised an eyebrow. "Wait, they're in Lima? Damn. Oh, OooOh. Damn." He saw her gentle smile as he held out his pinkie as well. "I, Abel Cyrus Hayward, promise to be clean and sober while Im traveling with our kid and I will also find an AA and a therapist while in Lima. When I get back, I will go to a meeting & a session. Good." He said as he wrapped his pinkie around hers and shook it as he met her eyes.

Dani nodded a bit as he spoke. "Yeah, Puck is one lucky fucker." Dani laughed a bit and then her face fell serious as she listened to him. Nodding her head, she curled her pinkie around his the rest of the way. "We've got this."

Abel looked at Dani and chewed on his inner cheek. "Lets hope so." He said, hoping that it would be true.

#parawhatif #self harm tw #blood tw #abuse tw #depression tw #i: abel hayward #p: abel hayward #p: 007 #p: all

[satire-please]

My Teeth are like Swords - Part 2

Summary: (I’m tired and can’t transfer this in a way to keep my italics in dang it.) Tim is a detective...who lives with detectives. The other Bat's start noticing something different about one of their own. And Tim realizes that he can't hide forever.

Part 1

Dragon Tim on Ao3

Like finding gold dust on a blood moon, there are times Tim will hear about his Mother. It’s difficult to encounter another drake, they’re too rare, too widely spread that it’s a miracle that Tim has met two. But it’s always a surprise to hear that Janet Drake is considered a romantic, sentimental imbecile to other dragonfolk.

To mate with a human is one thing, but to shift and willingly live beside them in their pitiful metal ant hills? Preposterous.

And to carry young on that state? Inside of their own bodies instead of in a proper shell as hard as diamonds? Unheard of.

What foolish unnecessary risks.

Tim felt his core bubble in warmth whenever he hears such slander. That Mother would care that much. Once, he did approached her on the subject.

“I spent many centuries as a upstanding, model drake.”Janet sniffed disdainfully, steering Tim from a fuming man at one of Gotham’s many galas. The drake from the east is starting to show, smoke passing from his nose uncontrollably. How embarrassing, her Timothy showed more restraint when he was three. “Now I find it much more valuable of my time to do as I please. Besides, the fact remains that my line will continue to endure and adapt unlike most bloodlines that will taste stone and dust.”

Tim summed it up to, ‘I do what I want. Leave me alone or burn.’

She glanced behind her to give the man a subtle sneer. What a fool to think that she would accept such an inadequate betrothal for her son. And, to add insult to injury, the man’s daughter hadn’t even bothered to present herself. “A dragon is a dragon, Timothy. It doesn't matter if you are half, a quarter or only possess a single drop of our blood. Magic doesn't care. It will still take, you will still shift, you will still fly. And if those incessant pathetic hair ribbons say anything different, show them there are still ways to make a dragon fry.”

Tim loved his Mother.

It’s...a shame he’s the only one who knew how she died.

And it wasn’t from that stupid water Obeah left, no matter how traditional to dragon slaying poison is. True it weakened her to the point of inducing a death-like coma, but if Tim lifted an eyelid the iris would still flash and respond. If Tim pressed his hand to her chest, he’d still feel the hint of fire tucked within.

Robbing the cemetery had been a pain though. It’s not like he could just tell Dad that, ‘Um hey, mother’s not dead. No, I know she seems like she’s dead. Yes, I know she doesn’t have a pulse, but you see–’

Yeah, not happening.

He abused his connections for a nice cave carved out of the cliff face next to the manor. It’s not like Mr. Wayne was using it. It could be accessed from the rocky beach if necessary, the entrance tight until you were a couple meters in. Then it stretched enough for his mother’s body to shift unconsciously, so the dragon could heal and sleep in peace.

Tim had thought it was perfect.

It didn’t matter much in the end.

Not when Mother finally woke and could smell Tim’s lie about Dad. Not when she stopped eating. The young teen would find, hunt, and drag dead deer and antelope into the cave only to rot around her body as she stared emptily at the stone walls. She waited for death. Nothing could change her mind...no matter how much he begged and pleaded.

“Please!” He stroked her rough eyelid, thoughts racing for any excuse for her to stay with him. To not leave him alone. “Isn’t there something you still have to teach me?”

His hand falls away as a lazy violet eye cracks open. It’s bigger than his head and the pupil focuses so achingly slow. “You’ve known all since you turned twelve, my pet. Our race never repeats themselves, not with memories like ours.”

“B-But I need–”

“You have my hoard, you will not go without means. You have my brain, you will do well and even thrive. You have a territory, a perfect environment for your future form and most of all you possess a purpose to keep your heart beating. Even if it is as ridiculous as looking after those silly humans. I am satisfied...now let me die in peace.”

“No please, m-mother, stay with me.”

“Oh, my darling. One day you will understand. Our love...is a terrible thing.”

And with that she stopped responding. Tim reasoned, screamed, cried while the reflection of his distraught face became clear in those unblinking glassy eyes. His throat raw as he hit and scratched uselessly at the black scales going grey, like the ashy rock dripping behind them until the camouflage of her skin was truth and she was stone.

Like all dragons when they die.

That’s how Timothy Drake inherited Gotham, sobbing on his knees as the refuge became a crypt.

It takes several years before Tim raids another grave...his father’s.

After all, Mother would appreciate his skeleton crystallizing next to hers. She would have liked that.

Timothy still loves his Mother.

**

It's a slow night and Jason’s gonna explode. He's stopped four muggings, seven car thefts, and a couple of kids trying to make a molotov cocktail. Okay, Jason felt bad at stopping the last one, come on what is he turning into? A twitchy cop? Geez, let kids be kids and fuck the police. He’s about to shoot his own damn foot for some excitement when he sees something in the corner of his eye as he hits the next roof.

Oh-ho? In the curve of hanging gargoyles menacingly scowling at those is a hint of red that tugs a smirk on Hood’s lips.

Replacement.

Well, alright, he hasn't meant that name in a bad way for a while. It's not like Jay wants to carve a new one in Mr. Serious anymore. Sure, he’s an annoying prude with the biggest stick up his ass, hangin’ off Bats’ every word like the good guard dog, the good tool he is, but, hey, he ain't a bad guy. Saved Jay from enough pinches that he feels right and guilty about the whole almost bleedin’ him out thing. So he makes it up the only way he can..with tough love. Plus, the more Jay can shake that Babybird nice and loose, the better. He takes in the former Robin’s figure, how he’s hunched in upon himself. His head of black resting on his knees as the crouch tucks him right under one of the silent stone guardians.

Babybird snoozing on the job? Have some shame.

Not that Jay has any of that. He barely stops himself from snickering, giving himself away when the helmet goes static for it, and creeps closer. Close enough to get the best view of the little shit’s face. It takes a Bat to sneak up on a Bat, you know. A grin spreads wide on his cheeks as he pulls his gun from his holster (it’s only rubber bullets now, calm the fuck down) Then, he aims to the sky and fires.

The crack of the bullet gives Jay the most beautiful flinch and jerk you ever did see–

Boom.

–but the returning blast of burning hot possible death that floods the ledge is not.

It takes every scrap of speed he has to not singe his fucking eyebrows off. It’s more fire than force, but thank Batman for quick reflexes and the tell tale click near Red.

“What the hell, Babybird?” Smoke billows, curling around the two and Jason coughs, waving his arms madly.

“I could say the same for you, asshole.” In the black mess, a spark sputters between Tim’s teeth, just like an annoying lighter that flickers and hurts your thumb the more you try, as he tries to control his shaky breathing. Inhale. Damn, that really startled him. Exhale. His fangs sink into his lower lip, drawing blood over the rude awakening. He shakes his head like a dog, forcing what was sharp canines into blunt square human teeth. “Gunshot really? Gosh, you always have to be a dick, don’t you?”

“Do you always have to throw something flashy when ya wake up? Ain’t that Robin’s way?” Jason brushes his clothes, disgruntled. He didn’t see a flash grenade or anything, but Bats right? More prepared than a Girl Scout.

“Maybe.” Tim wonders how long he’s going to get convenient excuses.

“What? Ya sleep with them or something? Didn’t know ya needed a teddy bear, Replacement.”

Tim smirked, “Oh, come on, Hood, didn’t you learn to let sleeping dragons lie?”

“Ha, ha. Whatever, call it a night, you pyromaniac piece of shit.” Jason puts his gun away and fishes for a peace offering under his collar. He thrusts the white cigarette at the other, “Smokes?”

“Not right now, Hood.”

“Your loss, Replacement.” Jason lights it, dragging a puff to cover up a pout. Hmpf, stuffy princess. Doesn’t drink with him (I’m not legal to drink, Jason). Never smokes with him (We have set an example to Damian, Jason). Jay should be offended cause nowadays Tim carries the hazy scent round like a club’s perfume and Jay knows he’s hiding the good stuff somewhere.

He’s just never seen Tim do it.

Tim observes the turn of Jason’s mouth and jerks his head towards the street below, “Not smokes, but you hungry enough for hotdogs?”

“This is Gotham, baby, when I am ever not down for hotdogs?”

The two shoot their grappling lines towards a vendor who’s too used to this shit to give one. But as Tim rattles off their order, something itches at Jason. Something that’s off.

(The Gargoyle they left above bares new marks along its side. The side that Jason couldn’t see. They were not chiseled in, but Tim is sure most wouldn’t notice the new additions.)

Whatever.

He’ll figure it out.

**

Timmy’s been sleeping more.

Dick is so grateful he wipes at an imaginary tear, sniffs, and whips out his phone to snap a picture again. Tim doesn’t snore, but that’s definite drool on his chin, nicccccccce. Dick takes in the scene and gets another shot from a different angle. He almost has a full album now titled, Behold the Cryptid Sleeps, it’s only fair after all the pictures Tim took of them when he was their cutest little stalker. For now, Dick just calls it karma and texts Babs to back the good stuff up.

But, okay, Dick admits it’s starting to get weird.

And Timmy’s sleeping habits have always been weird. Before he had stolen Bruce’s crown and title of Sleep Dep King. Working on case after case, day after day only to finally pass out, usually with something like,

“How many days does it take to start hallucinating again, Bruce?”

“...Three.”

“Huh, so that’s why you’re purple with seven eyes.”

It usually takes a lot to get Timmy to crash and burn into a bed, usually (always) in the form of Alfred and good food laced with sedatives. It’s not that Timmy doesn’t know that they’re in the food, it’s just that no one says no to Alfred Pennyworth. No one.

But now it’s like Tim is on an egg timer and it’s wonderful.

After about 24 or 26 hours, against his will, Timmy starts swaying on his feet and lurches grumpily towards a safe, soft spot to snooze. True, Dick notes sometimes they’re odd places, like underneath the desk of the bat computer, nestled in much of the wiring. Or head resting on the kitchen table, his angry eyes drooping with, “I don’t understand. Coffee has failed me, Alfred.”

“Our bodies change over time, Master Timothy. One cannot expect caffeine to sustain them forever.”  

“You’re...lying. You did something to the coffee, admit it!”

“I have not...this time.”

“You must have I...can’t even–” But Tim doesn’t get to finish the response.

“Master Dick I believe Master Timothy needs to be escorted to his room. If you would–” Alfred leaves the sentence open, because anytime Dick can hold an unconscious, not struggling brother? You know he’s all over that.

Bruce has even started to prioritize breaks in the patrol schedule for Tim. Or, to be more accurate, he’s encouraging (enforcing) Tim to use the breaks that have always been there.

But…really the switch in the dynamic is kinda odd, especially when Dick finds Tim on one of the Manor’s couches after patrol, his skin paler than milk and shivering in his sleep. When the room is set to 75 degrees….and he’s under at least five blankets.

Dick pads over and cups the younger vigilante face in two hands. “Holy Batman, Timmy, you're as cold as ice.” His brow furrows when Tim barely responds to the statement, his eyes half open to blurrily peer at Dick. That’s not a good sign. Plus, he’s is not kidding. Tim’s skin is cool to the touch, it could compete with one of the dripping stalagmites in the cave.

“S’cold Dick…and tired.” The words push out of his lips clumsily. He raises his arms to grasp the Dick’s wrists as if he was going to push the hands off his cheek and then just forgot. The heat’s too inviting. “Just need sleep, m’fine.”

“I think you're a liar that lies, Babybird.” Dick leans back only to pull the covers off enough to slip beside Tim onto the couch. He tugs the boy in with an arm until Tim's head finds a comfy spot on his shoulder. Heck yeah, it's cuddle time. The best way to share body heat ever. He looks around the den and sees the remote for the T.V. It takes a few tries to stretch in a way to get it, especially without moving too far from Tim, but Dick’s not an acrobat for nothing.

Tim huffs a weary laugh against Dick’s neck, “Well, I'm the guy that lies to Batman, you know.”

“Shhhhhhh, he’ll hear you.” Dick pats Tim’s hair, starts clicking channel after channel (a thousand channels is just not enough) for something to watch.

“M’good, you can go.” Tim didn’t expect it would take so long for his core to normalize. Fire might smoulder under his breast, but damn it, it’s sucking most of the heat from his extremities. To his calculations, it may be months before his body can adjust to the change...if ever. Tim can already imagine the mountain of clothing he’ll need for Gotham’s winter. Mother got away with it by layering and calling in fashion. How is Tim going to spin it when he’s jumping off roof-tops fat with every wool item he can find? Oh. Or he could design heaters in his clothing. That could work. But still, this is the reason why most drakes live near volcanoes. Temperature regulation is a bitch.

Dick hums above him and breaks Tim’s line of thought. Oh well, he guesses he’ll stay here for a bit longer, just until he thaws out and stops being an Tim-icicle. It’s not that Dick minds, right? He fades away at the sound of a bad romantic comedy playing in the background.

He doesn’t see the frown on Dick’s face.

Or hear him quietly whisper into his com, “Alfred, could you run some tests for me?”

**

Alfred would have a conniption.

“Drake, you wretched slob.”

Damian must see to it that the competent butler never visits the former Robin. Ever. The man is old and truly must be spared from any health issues that may occur from witnessing this vile display of chaos. In fact, Damian wishes he could spare himself from the scene, yet Father did request him to fetch the evidence and Dick is off planet. How dare he.

Damian squints pass the entrance only to flinch back. There in the dark, two pinpricks of purple follow his every move...and hiss.

The Robin swallows and forces the door open all the way, allowing the dim light from the basement to flood the room. There are no light switches. It’s...odd. The boiler hums nearby explaining the heat that’s almost sweltering. Heaps of objects litter the floor, making narrow pathways here and there. Fortunately, food must be absent in the debris since the smell lacks rot. Instead what perfumes the air is what Damian associates with his predecessor, the smell of spices burned with a touch of something chemical. Gasoline, perhaps? Damian’s breathing finally evens out when he spots a mess of black hair poking out from a mountain of bedding.

Blearily, Tim focuses on the intruder. “Damian? What are you doing here?” he sleepily grumbles.

Though Grayson might find the tone endearing, Damian does not.

“I have come for the Spear of Enue. Father requires it and has requested me to retrieve it from you. He said it was in your possession?”

“B needs to leave my stuff alone.” Tim sits upright, staring emptily for a moment and clearly displeased about being awake. Then, with a groan he sluggishly works himself out of the bedding. “But a case is a case, I guess. Yeah, I have it, just give me a sec to get it.”

“The spear is here?”

A hum. “Sure, it is, why wouldn’t it be?”

Well, at least Drake seems more amenable when half-awake. Robin crosses his arms and strives not to look too haughty. Usually collecting data from the older vigilante takes more coaxing (threats) and persuasion (heavy bickering) to get the desired result. Perhaps he should lend his assistance.

“Drake, where are your lights? Two pairs of eyes would obviously be quicker than one.”

“Lights?” A confused tone. “Why would I need lights? I can see just fine.”

“Tch, I’m surprised you can locate anything in this outrageous dump.”

“Mother always said I was a messy hoarder, but I have a strong belief that mess is a matter of perspective. Besides, I know exactly where everything is.”

Tim slinks out of bed and makes his way toward a pile that seems to have earned the category of lethal and shiny weapons. Damian attempts to move towards the same direction, but his foot hits an item and he just manages to make the trip look intentional. Of course, Drake was not even looking. Wait.

“Drake, is that my katana?” He points to the hilt barely poking out from the bottom, half of the weapon slithering from under the bed.

It’s a silly habit that Tim can’t shake from childhood to put the most prized things under his bed, like the old cardboard box full of pictures, a few stacks of spanish golden doubloons marked from a toddler’s teething, a cursed ruby the size of a skull, you know the usual.

“...Yes?” Tim’s head bobs up from his search and glances over at the weapon. Then, he pauses for a moment or two, his expression shifting so fast (Mine, not mine, mine, not mine) that Damian cannot place it, “Oh, sorry. I guess you’d want that back. I mean, of course you do, it belongs to you, I only had it because you were gone and–”

Drake cuts off, making no movement towards the old katana. Damian reasons it must have been acquired while he was not among the living. He doesn’t know how to feel about Drake keeping that kind of memento, yet he notes there is a definite lack of rage that usually accompanies such a theft. In addition, Drake looks like a petulant child.

“It does not matter. I no longer require a child’s katana.” Damian waves a hand to the other heaps. “The spear, however, Drake, Father needs immediately.”  

“Right.”

It is then he notices Drake’s unusual attire. The vigilante groggily separates the pile for what Damian seeks in boxers and a baggy Gotham U sweatshirt that keeps sliding over a white shoulder. How peculiar, Drake never went to college so why...ah, yes, Dick. But what really has Damian’s brows rising is the two thick watches on Tim's wrist. One that he's definitely seen on his father once before and a glint of something shiny peeking from the sweatshirt.

“Do you often sleep in diamonds, Drake?”

“They're nice to look at before bed,” Tim muttered absentmindedly.

“Is that a slogan for this new fashion statement?” Damian walks over and curiously pulls down the collar to look at it more closely. Many of the gems are larger than an egg as they lace together in the metal filigree. It covers a wide band over Drake’s collarbones before cascading towards his sternum in delicate chains. “This piece is familiar to me. Drake, are these the jewels we recovered from Catwoman?”

“One, I demand the fundamental human right to always be pretty, witty, and gay. You’ll understand when you’re older. Two, I bought these from that auction fair and square, so Selina should have keep her mangy paws off them.”  

Suddenly, Damian remembers that specific tackle to take down the thief had been...more enthusiastic and vicious on Drake’s part. Usually Father is the one to handle any incidents with her, but perhaps all it takes is emotional investment to pin down the slippery woman.

Tim pries off Damian’s fingers only to press what he seeks in them. “Here, the spear. Now, get out. If you’re gonna mock and insult me, I want four more hours of sleep first.”  

The spear is heavy, but Damian manages with a tilt to this lips. “Very well, I’ll skin and eviscerate you later, Drake.”

Drake snorts. “And, hey, you have a spear and everything. All you have to do is be knighted and we’d have the perfect fairytale set up. Farewell, Sir Brat.” He waves to the door before collapsing onto the bed, preparing his nest the way he wants it.

Damian watches the ritual all the way to the door. Stops to take in the scene one a final time. It’s strange, but it does seem like a lair from one of his grandfather’s monster stories. Dark, warm like a breathing thing, full of hidden treasure...and danger.   

How right he is.

But he comes to the realization later...much later.

**

Bruce has seen a lot.

He’s fought aliens on ships millions of lightyears from Earth and tangled with kraken under the sea. He’s negotiated with Circe for Diana’s sake and fed viruses to ruin robot armies for Clark’s. He’s handled witches, sorcerers, and time-travellers from around the world. Every night he tries to plug one of Gotham’s bleeding holes as they gush out the vile and the crazy with the Joker, Ivy, Harvey, and more.

Bruce has seen a lot.

But the universe keeps surprising him one way or another. And sometimes? Closer to the heart then he expected.

“So, you’re the drake that rejected my proposal.”

“And you’re the dame that didn’t even bother to show up to make it.”

Bruces eyes flicker back and forth between his third son and the young, literally steaming woman in front of them. Her pale white hair whips behind her like something alive. The villain of the month does the same. Apparently, Gotham has the perfect waterfront property for the taking, especially with the leyline that cuts right through the city or so the warlock just finished monologuing about.

“What are you doing? I said destroy them.” The fuming sorcerer demands pointing at the Bat-clan. Golems rise in various stages around them being the only opponents beyond the man and woman. They’re all near the Manor by the beach, a few miles from the city but even with the home field advantage...Bruce feels a thread of concern to see Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian joining him to put their backs against the cliff face below his family home.

“Just a moment, Master, I have some unfinished business to attend to.” The woman raises a hand and starts to undo her cloak.

“Master? My, my.” Tim flicks his bo to the side. It’s not going to be useful here. Ugh, this is not how he wanted this to go. “Just how low has your line fallen? Mother was right to refuse to even consider you as a candidate. Do you follow his every command or do you just lick his boots?”

“How. Dare. You.” The woman’s eyes glow yellow and her voice’s pitch becomes grating.

Tim snorts. “Look at you. You can’t even control your shift….pathetic.”

“Red Robin, the situation, now.” Bruce tries striking another golem, but Tim ducks to put himself between the Bats and the newcomers.

“You judge me, when you wear human flesh so much that you stink of it? Your true scent barely bleeds through.” The odor of rancid sulfur strikes the air. The woman peels off her clothes, layer by layer until a pile litters the sand. “Half-breed.”

Rude. The human and dragon are both his scents. Tim thinks he smells fine, thanks.

“I said–” The villain tries to command but the dame strides towards Red Robin.

“How are you different from me? The warlock will save my line and give us power, but you? You play at human.”

“I do what I want,” Tim icily states. “Which is more that I can say for you. Now get out of my territory or burn.”

“No, I think I’m going to put a male in his place. Beneath me.” And the woman lets out a cry that turns into a roar. The other Bats watch as the woman’s form hutches over, makes a terrible crack and then grows. And grows. And grows. Scales take shape as her neck elongates and it’s sickening. Before them a white dragon rises and crashes a claw on the beach. It’s the size of a house.

‘Well…’ Bruce thinks. ‘That’s something new.’

“A dragon, come on. You have to be fuckin’ kiddin’ me,” Jason snarls, shooting at the beast. The rubber bullets do nothing but irritate the overgrown Godzilla-wanna-be.

“Wait, it gets better,” Tim mutters. “So, burn it is. This is why we can’t have nice things between dragons. What a pity...bring it.”

And there is a collective gasp.

Because Tim smirks and the beach is overcome with a violent blast. When the smoke clears...there’s nothing?

Nothing but the golems on the beach, the Bats fighting them and the warlock hissing out commands to a white giant worm, who is diverting much from his cunning plan.

But no Tim.

The white dragon shrieks in fury and raises her giant wings, preparing to crush those on the sand when something large slams into her side. She lurches over and peers over her shoulder. Nothing. But several of her scales are cracked from the impact.

Then, it’s as if thunder booms right in front of them, making their eardrums ring from the force of the sound. Under the blow, the white worm topples forward attempting to steady herself.

It’s shadowy and massive, a heavy body and the thumping beat of wings. It’s slowly moving into the moonlight on the beach, kicking up sand.

The Bats shields their eyes even with the whiteouts down, the gust knocking into kevlar and nomac. Nightwing automatically throws an arm out to keep Robin from falling; Hood makes an unconscious grab to the other arm.

And when he lights down, massive razor-tipped claws digging into the sand, the black scales and shiny leather of wings give the Bats one hell of an answer to all those burning questions.

Timmy’s always cold.

The cave, the hoard.

The night vision.

The ever-ready exploding “pellets”.

All of it comes to a sudden dawning realization.

The baddie of the night looks from one dragon to the other, trepidation leaking in because who would have thought two dragons at once.

Low muttering, winding a spell even as the new dragon throws back his power neck and roars. It shakes them down to their very bones, a sound unlike any they’ve heard before.

The shift of muscle, dark eyes narrowing, and the first lunge is punctuated by the abrupt cries of the Bats who have come to the realization this is one of their own.

But there’s no pause when claws come up to strike, when the first is a good one, raking into his side, putting his first blow into soft underbelly, close to the intended target.

(Only one way to kill a dragon, the heart has to go.)

“Motherfuck--Tim!” But Hood can do nothing but watch the blood, ripe and rich in the night splatter the beach, hoping stupidly it ain’t all Red’s.

“Get to the sides!” the Batman roars, already moving, already reaching for the next weapon in his belt.

He sees the opening when both dragons rear up on hind legs for the next blow, his gauntlet spitting out flash pellets.

It’s go time as the rest of the Robins take it all in and move. Robin pulls a duck and dodge through legs with a batarangs ready for the baddie on the other side.

Hood pulls a whole lotta how ya’ doin’ when the .45s spit a few rubber bullets right on the gouge marks, sliding through the sand as the bigger dragon leans down to latch teeth into Tim’s neck and hold the fuck on.

Nightwing leaps, even with the sand trying to bog him down, both sticks out in a double blow at the exposed weakness behind the white dragon’s ear. He has enough time to cringe at the sound of pain tearing into the night, to see the gleam of claws sinking into her belly in a knee-jerk reaction.

The fight going on behind them, the golem starting to shift and move at the sorcerer’s botched command, and Robin just breathes out a deep damn sigh because honestly, some of us have homework to dumb down. But he shifts, pulling out pellets in rapid succession as he moves closer to the army. The abrupt, “huu,” is just more proof he is a superior marksman. The mental note to pick up the tome from which those accursed spells emanate from is another task on the night’s to-do list.

The abrupt shock of Nightwing’s stick and the barrage of bullets takes its toll, getting the white dragon to jerk away from that black jugular, to rear back with pain.

The claws sink deeper, Red growling low, smoke curling from his maw. His eyes slide to the sides, making sure the Bats are out of firing range before he opens his maw with that familiar and suddenly very telling click.

“Down!” It’s Batman that throws the last exploding batarang within range to the white dragon’s injured belly, so the blast of burning blue flame ignites, sets the soft, vulnerable innards to char.

Red, however, takes the last blow for his own (because she picked the wrong fucking city, the wrong family, the wrong dragon to fuck with), claws sinking in, and the meaty thump in the center is just at the right place to reach.

Low and huffing, “try me.”

“You wouldn’t,” her voice cracks from agony.

“Threaten what’s mine, and I won’t think twice.” He gives just the smallest squeeze to punctuate the point.

“Better not fuck with him, bitch,” Hood’s voice, lazy through the synths while he eyes the army Demon is gonna be taking on, “he ain’t one ta joke.”

The white dragon growls and the iridescent black dragon can feel her tensing up as if to give her last hurrah, to go out with a bang, but he’s having none of that. He snarls, the sound deep from within his chest as he snaps his jaws just in front of the dame’s face, sparks clicking behind his gleaming ivory teeth. “You should know,” he practically purrs, “there are fates worse than death. Don’t. Push. Me.” His words, his threat (a bluff, shh), thankfully, gets the right reaction. She sags with a trailing growl, eyes glittering with malice and defeat.

“Go. Get out of my territory.” The words leave no argument.

“W-Who…” she spits blood, dotting the sand, “who would want...your...shoddy terr-territory anyway.”

Slowly, he retracts, pulling his claws back while the click echoes against the bluff, a warning and a promise. But the dame doesn’t move to start the fight up again. She needs time to heal the grievous injuries. The mage will earn his own fate.

“And now, next on the list,” Nightwing sighs, looking from the dragon to where Robin has starting whipping out the tricks and traps on the moving golem.

“By the way, Timmers,” Hood’s neck cranes as he look up at the massive face hanging low, the chest heaving with that little scuffle. “You ever think, hmm, I dunno to say you might be a motherfucking dragon or some shit? I mean, don’t they say that shit right off the fucking bat?”

The dragon huffs down at him as Hood holds up a hand to demonstrate, “‘nice ta meetcha. Name’s Timmy. Like long flights ‘round the beach, beatin’ the shit outta assholes, and literally roasting my enemies.

Ya know, just the usual shit for Gotham.”

#Dragon Tim #my writing #tim drake #batfamily #I'm tired #iphoenixrising is awesome and helped with the fighting scene #allseer is a sweet beta too