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grovyrosegirl · 3 years

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Confrontation: MCSM Fic

Author’s Note: I’ve been replaying MCSM seasons 1 and 2 recently because I got nostalgic for those blocky dorks. Then I went through some old WIPs in my docs and found this Lukas and Aiden fic from a few years ago. I really liked it, so I spruced it up a bit and finished it for old times’ sake. Enjoy!

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“Bring him in.”

The guards wasted no time leading Lukas into the small cobblestone room. Despite confiscating everything in his inventory upon arrival, including his weapons, they kept a tight, secure grip on both of his arms. It was only when his former friend, who leaned against the wall with the most satisfied smirk on his face, gave them a small handwave that the guards released Lukas and stepped back, still blocking the only exit to the room.

“Leave us,” Aiden then ordered the two guards, much to Lukas’ surprise.

Even with the wary looks he saw on their faces, the guards obeyed and left the room, shutting the iron door behind them. Lukas faced forward once again, now noticing the oak wood table resting in the center of the room, two identical chairs stood on opposite sides of the table’s surface.

“Take a seat, Lukas,” Aiden made his way over and sat down in the chair facing the door, casually resting his arms behind his head. “Let’s chat.”

Lukas didn’t speak, eyeing the other carefully. Despite everything that had occurred in the past year, knowing what Aiden was capable of, and how low he’d sunk already, seeing that look--that smile--on his face felt unsettling to him. Lukas recalled their theater days that felt like centuries ago, the days before the Witherstorm, before they even thought to call themselves the Ocelots. Aiden was never much of an actor, his specialty had always been the set production.

But clearly, Lukas thought to himself as he felt his eyes lower into a glare, Aiden was enjoying playing the villain.

Slowly, he made his way over to the other chair, sitting down and folding his arms.

“So, is this the part where you try to get me to talk?” Lukas curtly began before Aiden could open his mouth again. “Because you’re wasting your time. Even if I did know where Jesse was, I wouldn’t tell you.”

Everything had happened so fast. The guards raced towards them all, closing in fast when they were revealed as the bridge-builders, an innocent act back home, but a crime on the floating island. His own capture occurred in a matter of seconds, he didn’t even see the guard coming until the very last moment. One minute he was watching Jesse sprint away into the alley, the next he was on the ground, pinned down by the guard. But those few seconds let Jesse and Petra escape, and for that, he took some relief in. By the time Lukas and Ivor were escorted to the throne room, the Founder was already getting the report from another guard that they’d lost sight of the “remaining criminals” as they put it.

He felt relieved knowing that his two friends hadn’t been captured yet. It meant there was a sliver of hope of getting out of this place.

Aiden let out an exaggerated sigh and sat up straight in the chair, leaning forward slightly and placing his arms crossed on the table’s surface, “Man, Jesse, Jesse, Jesse. Aren’t you sick of talking about her yet? Don’t worry, I’m not going to try and get an answer out of you. Like you said, it would be a waste of time. Besides, you already got plenty of that from the Founder.” He snickered for a moment before continuing, “No. This is the part where I throw you a bone.”

“And what exactly does that mean?” Lukas said.

“It means I’m giving you a chance here, buddy,” Aiden said, “to join the winning team again.”

Lukas blinked, “What?”

“You heard me.”

He eyed Aiden suspiciously before saying, “You can’t be serious.”

“No games here, friend. Out of the goodness of my heart, I’ve decided to give you a second chance,” Aiden stood from his seat and began to walk around the table to stand next to Lukas. “C’mon, Lukas! It’ll be like the old days. Don’t you remember? We were the top dogs for years, and now, we can finally be on top again. But this time, it’ll be more than just winning some lame building contest.”

Aiden let out a deep chuckle, he wrapped one arm around Lukas’ shoulders and leaned in closer, a grin on his face.

“Here in this world, buddy? We can be kings.”

Lukas roughly shoved against Aiden’s chest, making the other man stumble back a few steps.

“I knew it,” Lukas said through his heated glare, “you’re planning to betray the Founder, aren’t you? It’s not enough that you want to steal the Eversource from her, you want her throne too.”

Aiden shot his own blazing glare back at Lukas, before regaining his composure and saying with that same grin, “Congrats Captain Obvious, you want a cookie?”

“Eat a slimeball, Aiden,” Lukas fired back, “do you honestly think you’ll get away with this?”

“I already am. But right now? That’s nothing you need to worry about,” He once again leaned back against the cobblestone walls. “The real question you should be asking is whether or not you’ll get to be a part of the spoils. It’s easy, Lukas. All you have to do is say yes and follow my lead. After that? Well, it’ll take a while, but I’m sure you can make up for abandoning your real team.”

At those words, Lukas’ boiling thoughts began to steam. He smashed his hands against the table’s surface and pushed himself up from the chair.

“Excuse me?!” He exclaimed. “You must’ve really lost me there, because last time I checked, it was you who abandoned me!”

At that reaction, Aiden almost seemed to shrink against the wall. However, he swiftly recovered his bravado and moved towards Lukas with gripped fists.

“We left because all you could think about was Jesse and her loser friends! It was always, ‘I’ve got to help Jesse build today!’ or ‘I’m going to visit Jesse!’” He clasped his hands together, held them close to his cheek as if he were hopelessly in love, and swung them back and forth while speaking in a mocking manner, “‘She’s my new best friend! We make cookies together! She’s sooo nice, and she’s sooo cool!’ You followed her around like a lovesick puppy. It makes me want to hurl!”

“I don’t get it all. Why?” Lukas shook his head in frustration. “Why do you hate her so much? Why have you always hated her so much? She never did anything to you! You always just got a kick out of torturing her and her friends, didn’t you? And when you couldn’t pick on her anymore, you start pushing Maya and Gill around. Anything to make yourself feel tall, is that it?!”

“Not like you ever tried to stop me,” he scoffed.

“Because back then, I thought it was all some dumb rivalry. But I was wrong. And I still kick myself everyday for not putting a stop to it. Maybe if I had,” Lukas paused, then let out a sigh that was flooded with a regretful tone, “maybe we wouldn’t be here right now.”

Aiden scowled, “She’s a loser. And all she does is drag people down to her loser level. She did it with Petra, and she did it with you.”

“She’s a hero. And she’s my friend!”

“I was your friend!” Aiden snarled.

“Yeah, you were. Until you decided that your stupid, fragile ego mattered more than years worth of friendship!”

“If you were really my friend, you wouldn’t have chosen Jesse over me!”

“If you were really my friend, you wouldn’t have made me choose!”

At the end of his patience, Aiden lunged forward with an angry screech. He grabbed the collar of Lukas’ jacket and yanked the boy forward, dangling him slightly off the ground.

“I can do it, you know,” Aiden said through gritted teeth. His voice was low, but ever-so menacing, “I can throw you off this island right now. No one would blame me if I told them you attacked me. The people here believe whatever I tell them. You fall into the void forever, and all you’ll be remembered as is some villain who tried to attack this island’s savior.”

Lukas, amidst his struggle against Aiden’s grip, looked him directly in the eyes and said in his own low, fearsome voice, “I dare you.”

Aiden went still. All of the bravado, the threats, and the glares were drained from his face. His eyes went wide with disbelief, and in that moment, Lukas saw it. Fear. Hesitation. The thought that maybe, just maybe, he’d taken a step too far. Aiden opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. With only a sentence, Lukas was allowed to see the tiniest glimpse of the person he used to trust most in the world.

He saw the scared, insecure kid he’d met all those years ago.

Aiden’s grip on Lukas became loose, allowing the latter to easily push him away.

“That’s what I thought,” Lukas broke the silence with a sigh. He buried his hands into his jacket pockets, looking down to the floor, “You’re all talk, Aiden. Always have been.”

The anger returned as quickly as it had fled. But it wasn’t explosive. It was simmering. Aiden narrowed his eyes back into a glare, his fists, clenched so tight it looked painful, were trembling.

Another moment of silence passed before Aiden finally looked away from Lukas and exclaimed, “Guards!”

The same guards who’d brought Lukas here returned swiftly, entering the room and grabbing ahold of both of his arms once more. Lukas did little to resist their hold, only keeping a hard stare on Aiden.

“Get him out of my sight,” Aiden said in a low growl. “He’s useless.”

The guards obeyed and led Lukas out of the room. With a slam of the iron door, Aiden was left alone.

#my fanfics #Minecraft Story Mode #mcsm #MCSM lukas #mcsm Aiden #MCSM episode 5

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the-silentium · 3 years

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Rock Bottom

Masterlist - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

Fors is an Original planet. I do not give permission to people to use it for their own fics, the planet, the animals, the Nightmares, the lore or anything related to Fors. Thank you.

Pairing: Bad Batch x Reader

Words: 4150 words

Warnings: Blood, gore, monsters, killing, ANGST, cruel world in action.

A/N: I just reached 500 followers?! This is crazy! I love you all people who somehow put up with my insanity ♥️

Taglist: @haloangel391 / @lightning-wolffe / @cherrydemon5 / @and-claudia / @clone-rambles

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The vice grips around your upper arms burned as the talons cut through the fabric and tore through the skin. The humanoid creature hissed in pain when your bodies switched position and he got the worst of the branches. Soon, you found yourself falling on top of the Algax, out of breath and in pain.

It quickly rolled over, throwing you to the ground right under itself. You heard yells and saw lights illuminating your surroundings, but more importantly, you saw the eyeless, noseless face mere centimeters from your face, the hideous lining that you thought was its mouth looked burned and sewn shut as if to prevent it from feeding on its prey.

You would have been relieved of the fact if the pain in your arms hadn't moved to your whole torso. He was crushing you to death!

Out of your daze, you trashed around, feet kicking what would be its chest, attempting to push it away. Screeches erupted from tiny slits at the side of its hectically rotating head, the Algax abruptly jerked away from the ground, your body still in its grip. It started moving away from the clones, unbothered by the blaster bolts hitting its back successively or by your movements.

Orders were barked in your ear but they didn't register. All you could acknowledge was the building pressure around your bones, how it was becoming almost impossible to breathe even the tiniest of breath. You were positive that your ribs would start to break at any second now.

The primal part of your brain then took over, reaching for your knife and plunging it forward in the dark blue arm holding you above ground.

The effect was instantaneous. You were thrown like a rag doll to the side, right into a trunk. The thud of your head hitting the wood resonated through your skull, stilling you. Your whole body seemed to completely stop functioning for a whole second before remembering that this wasn't the time to chill out.

A moan nearly escaped your mouth as the first satisfying breath of the last minute filled your lungs. How could you never realize that breathing felt so right? Breathing felt so good. So much better than being squished like a miserable insect. Oh no. Was this how they felt every time you'd step on them? This was so crue-

"Are you okay?" Confused, you blinked at Tech's question.

"Me?" You pointed to yourself as if the question wasn't clear enough.

Then the pain in your arms registered and-

"Holy mother fucker that hurts!" You whined, experimentally poking the bleeding skin to see if this really was the source of the pain.

"Don't touch it!" Tech chastised, slapping your hand away, to which you glared in return.

"I'll die of a blood disease." You pouted, watching as your wound touched the disgusting bloody mix you spread on your clothes earlier.

"Highly possible." You felt the color leaving your face. Maybe you said it, but you didn't want it!

"But we won't let that happen." You jumped at the gauze tightening around your wound unexpectedly, your opposed hand almost shooting out to hit him instinctively.

"That was an Algax, correct?" Hunter approached behind Tech, keeping an eye on the surroundings while the engineer fixed your other arm.

"Spot on. He ran away, right?" The dark blue monster was nowhere to be seen, not that it bothered you.

"Right after you stabbed him." He handed you your knife that you apparently dropped at some point. "Look like those things are blaster proof or something."

"Maybe it has something to do with the fact that there's no blaster in the lore." You gladly took the life-saving weapon back, securing its handle in your grip where it belonged.

"Does your head hurt?" Tech inquired, getting up when he was satisfied with the makeshift bandages.

"Nope. All good." It was pounding in there, but whatever.

Getting back on your feet with Tech's help, you took a second to stabilize yourself before giving a heart attack to the nerd.

"Don't do that!" He yelped, catching everyone's attention on your stretching self.

"I'm just stretching..."

"You just hurt your back! Don't flex your spine like that!" He successfully got you back straight with a slap to your abdomen.

"We have to leave." Crosshair cut you off, pushing between the both of you to get ahead.

"I agree with Cross. No more fuss." You speed-walked to catch up to the abrasive clone, desperately trying to keep the laugh in at the rhyme.

"Thanks for that." You whispered to him, eyes already moving from shadow to shadow.

"Don't thank me. If you stretch again I'll make your life more miserable than it already is." Oh how this only made you want to stretch to push his buttons.

"Can't make it miserable if that means you'll be around." You grinned, unabashed by the meaning of your words. It was time for him to warm up to you a little more.

Every second of silence made you cheer inside. Rending the snarky sniper speechless was an exploit after all.

"I can figure something out." He countered weakly after a while.

Chuckling, you rotated the handle of your knife between your skilled fingers, alternating it from pointing forward and backward to pass your sudden regain of energy. Why did he have such an effect on you? It still was a mystery that you'd have to elucidate later.

"I hear a voice." Hunter informed the group.

"Is it calling you?" This was never a good sign, the Venuste were really effective critters in their task of enchanting everyone around. Keeping him with you and away from them would necessitate Wrecker's muscles.

"No, it's a kid's voice. Whining about flee- fleeing? Something like that. It's not clear."

"A kid?" You stopped dead, deeply confused. Had the council gone mad?! What could possibly justify sending kids out to their death? Or did they get caught outside like you did? "Where?"

"Sure it's not a trap?" He pointed over your shoulder to your right.

"One way to be sure." It genuinely hurt to stay in position and not speed walk through the trees to verify if the council had gone from a bunch of imbeciles to a cohort of assholes running the whole village to their doom.

You had to remind yourself that when you agreed to join the commandos, you'd made a promise to fight for them as well as with them and that you'd be a reliable asset at any time in any given situation. You weren't alone anymore.

It didn't change the fact that it was hard.

"It's personal?" Crosshair clearly saw the shift in your mood, from the tightness in your muscles that wasn't there before to the sudden lack of motion of your armed hand.

"I just want to know if I'll break my hand again or not."

"Break your hand?"

The question passed over your head when you heard the young boy's voice. He wasn't from the village, you knew every kid there mainly because you liked to help them build traps for strangers to fall in and they liked your prank ideas. You didn't know how to tell Tech that you were the one to propose the phosphorescent bird poo mixed with loth wolf puke idea. Maybe it was better to take it to your grave.

You halted at the edge of the clearing illuminated by the moon and its stars, eyes glued to the young boy walking in circle a couple of meters away, his bare feet bleeding profusely from the incessant walking he endured for who knew how long. Your heart squeezed at his fate. No one deserved this kind of torture, let alone an innocent child.

Your eyes adjusted to the new light, a new serene pallet of color taking over the gradually fading shades of blue and black.

The boy's clothes were torn up and dirty to a point where you couldn't say for sure what color it was initially or if there was a design on it like most children liked to wear nowadays.

"What's wrong with him?" Wrecker's worry hit you in the gut. You shouldn't have to tell him this because this shouldn't exist.

"He's a Wanderer, now. A Lumsin got his soul." You slumped, defeated.

"His soul?" He tilted his head and although you couldn't see it, you were sure there was a frown hidden under the customized helmet.

"Yes. Everyone has a soul and Lumsins feed on them. When they eat a soul, the body becomes lost and wander around, walking and walking until it dies."

"His soul got eaten." He reiterated in a whisper, the hand lifting to his head not lost on you.

"Y-" Your heartbeat shot through the roof when your eyes found a crest necklace around the kid's neck.

You knew that crest all too well. And those beautiful red hairs, they should have made you realize sooner. Way sooner.

"I know him." It unconsciously escaped your lips before you leaped forward, not able to repress your urges anymore.

Crosshair was hot on your tail, the others staying in the shadows to keep an eye out.

You jumped before the boy, hands rising to his cold cheeks, wishing that the gesture would pull him out of his spell. He merely rammed into you with his small 6 years old emaciated body, barely making you budge.

He continuously mumbled the same sentence, the last thought his body heard from his soul before the contact was lost.

"I want Fleena."

"Nixon, buddy." You grazed the freckles on his cheeks with your thumbs. He was so familiar.

You'd never met him when he was still a lively boy, their village wasn't one to be in close contact with the others, but you've seen extremely detailed drawings of him. Plus, he looked so much like his sister.

"We have to go." Crosshair pressed, anxious to be so out in the open. You knew you were being delusional and were basically putting him in danger for someone who couldn't be saved, but you had something to do.

"I'll be quick." You assured the sniper before taking the robin carved necklace off Nixon's small neck to store it in your pants pocket.

"Your sis' loves you very much, Nixon." You tenderly kissed his forehead like any child should be kissed, with utter softness and care. "And she wants you to be free."

You could easily remember the nights out between the local cantina and the general store, where Fleena would show you drawings of the beasts that attacked her village when their gates got breached. You were terrified. Her whole village was wiped out in a single night, leaving her behind with a mind plagued with nightmares and grief.

She talked often about Nixon who had turned 6 the week before it happened. She would relive her best moments with him, where laughs and smiles were a common occurrence. Then she'd close on herself, praying to the merciless gods above to at least let her brother be in peace.

It broke your heart to know that it wasn't the case. That he was still trapped, may his soul be somewhere else, hopefully, in a better world, his body was still living in a wicked world.

"You deserve to rest Nixon." You ruffled his hair like Fleena used to do.

With a quick movement of your hands, you freed him from his torment in this cruel world.

The world numbed for a moment, mind blocking the events for your own sanity, but it wasn't enough. It didn't stop all the injustice of this world. A vast beautiful world that you couldn't explore because of monsters waiting for the right moment to bounce. You were forced to live in a cage when the world was so vast. Kids were forced to grow up too fast or couldn't grow up at all. This world was sick.

It took 2 hours for your stomach to empty itself on the ground for the first time of the night. In all honesty, it was longer than you initially expected.

Oh. You didn't expect either to find yourself back into the woods, without any memory of making the way back. Hands alternate from patting your back to stroking up and down between your scapulas.

Someone's tears fell onto the bile, or maybe it was raining. Yes, it was raining. You felt the water stream down your cheeks like rivers, the two trails joining at your chin to fall on the ground.

"You freed him." Crosshair crouched to your level so you'd not tune him out like you did the others. "You helped him."

"I helped him." You repeated. It was true.

"You did." A finger moved across your cheek to remove the remaining rain from your face. No. They were tears. Your tears of pain.

"I hate to force this on you, but we have to get back to the rav-"

A scream of distress pierced the night, cutting off the sergeant in the worst way possible. Everyone froze, listening to the yells asking for help that only you understood. Another hunter. He wasn't that far away.

"He's asking for help." You mumbled slowly coming out of your daze.

Your eyes moved away from the bile splattered before your knees to meet the black and white helmet of your sergeant. You were in no position to decide, the fog in your mind only beginning to dissipate gradually.

"We can't help." The requests for assistance had already morphed into screams of pain and agony that they didn't need to be translated to understand.

"We hurry back and get off this rock." He cut short, the yells fading quickly in intensity.

Hands under your armpits helped you up. Shaky legs stilled after a couple of seconds and a few deep breaths. Slowly as if you'd double over at any second, Wrecker's huge hands let go of their grip on you. With a muttered thanks you harshly wiped your face with your hands to get yourself together.

You needed to bottle up every event happening tonight for later. You'd have time to scream, thrash around and cry when you'd be safe within the Havoc Marauder.

"Ready." You affirmed after swallowing the lump in your throat.

The night was silent again, meaning that the beast could either be feasting or roaming around again. The group will have to be extra careful to return to the ravine and stay under the radar. Many species could have caused this kind of screams and they weren't to be messed with.

Hunter took the front while you took his place in the middle, just behind him. Crosshair grazed your right arm, Tech your left and Wrecker got your back.

You purposefully ignored the worried glances coming from Tech, it surely must have been a shock to see you do what you did in the clearing. It was so out of nowhere for them. But it wasn't for you. A big part of your brain simply wished they would not abandon you on the planet once you all make it back to the ship.

This time, you were the first one to notice the change in the atmosphere. What was interpreted by Hunter as the wind humming through the trees was in fact a very angry Kribat protecting its territory.

"Hide!" You whispered harshly in the comlink you hurriedly pulled out of your pocket. There was no way they'd see your hand sign at your current position.

It was so sudden that they stopped for a millisecond, unsure of where to hide. You pushed through them to lead the way to a deeper line of trees on your left, feet moving faster to get more distance between the Kribat and your group.

Your feet slipped under yourself when you ducked behind a particularly large tree. Despite your best efforts to stay upright, gravity pulled you down to your fall, as it clearly enjoyed to do, both physically and mentally.

The ground wasn't as hard as you remembered, a bit soft if you were to define it, and warmer.

It wasn't until Wrecker pulled you upright once again that you realized that your fall had been broken by a shredded body. Dread washed over you as you saw the two other hunters who'd suffered the same fate, laying close by in a pool of their blood, missing some limbs.

You knew them. They never had a place in your heart, but you knew them nonetheless and would never have wished them to suffer like they did. You knew two of them had families waiting at home. Well. Maybe they weren't waiting, merely hoping that they would come back by some miracle.

Two feet away from a Kribat's preys was the worst place to be right now, but you couldn't move to another spot. Not with the howling Kribat right behind yours and Wrecker's hiding spot.

It was awfully close. Too close to your liking and way too angry to hope to survive its attacks if it were to find you.

Wrecker had you pressed to his chest by a hand right over your breast, detail that flashed into your mind although it was totally irrelevant. He was just stressed like you were. His hands simply reached for you in his haste and happened to find the friends-are-not-supposed-to-touch spot so you dropped it. At least he wasn't groping.

The ragged breathing of the feral beast passed as it reacted to a movement nearby, giving chase to the unfortunate creature. For a painful second, you thought that it might be one of your teammates, Tech and Hunter were out of view while Crosshair was peeking back to get a glimpse of the retreating beast.

Just as you tried to push away to see if the missing clones were around, Wrecker's hand pushed you more into himself, crushing your boobs like they were never crushed before.

"Everyone's okay." He informed you to keep you still, not releasing his grip. You hummed in acknowledgment.

"Wrecker." He hummed back, waiting for you to continue. "Hands off my boobs."

You've never seen a hand fly away as quickly as Wrecker's did. Yours didn't even move that fast when you accidentally put your hand on a lump of red coal and you remember having a good reflex then.

"Hands off what?" A harsh whisper in your right ear caused the demolition expert to sputter.

Apparently, the comlink in his helmet caught your voice.

"I didn't know Sarge!" He explained without any more delay. "Sorry Y/N."

He kept his free hand far from your body now that the danger has passed. It would have been hilarious if only you weren't at the lowest emotionally.

" 's fine Wrecker." You shrugged, unbothered by all of it and way too exhausted emotionally to care. It was an accident in the midst of action, nothing more, no need to create a whole drama because of it.

A piece of wood in the bloody mess caught your gaze. Your heart skipped a beat at the recognizable darker tint of the object, tonight was getting slightly better.

Crouching, you reached for the thick wood stick, fingers moving along the carvings etched into its length. Both in relief and satisfaction, you found the energy in yourself to smile.

"Found something?" Tech approached from your side, the remaining missing soldier in tow.

"Yeah. Most useful stealth weapon on this planet." You showed him the bloody bow, your other hand sliding your knife into its rightful place in your boot.

Rolling the body to the side respectfully, you checked for the quiver that you found still strapped to his back. Slowly, you pulled it over his head to pass it over yours.

"This is a fine piece of work." Despite his words, you could hear that he clearly would never use it to defend himself if he had the choice.

Taking back the weapon, you cleaned the grip and loaded an arrow, muscle memory doing a splendid job into positioning yourself perfectly in a flawless shooting stance. A sigh of relief almost escaped your lips at the feeling of finally being adequately armed.

"Think it will hurt them more than our blasters?" Crosshair gave you some extra arrows he found laying around, still unconvinced that wood sticks with metal points could surpass their own advanced technology.

"We'll know it now."

You frowned, quickly grabbing an arrow to arm the bow, pulled on the string while aiming over the engineer's shoulder and suddenly released the tension on the string, scaring the shit out of Tech but hitting your target perfectly.

The Algax screeched as the arrow hit it right where its left eye would be, retracting its dangerous talons reaching for the goggled clone to grab at its face.

The troopers jumped at the unexpected screech, although they recovered in record time, turning around, blasters at the ready. They only had time to shoot at its already retreating form.

"Don't lose that." Hunter turned around, pointing at the bow in your hands. "Now let's go." He urged everyone forward.

Quickly, you grabbed the arrows in Crosshair's hand and stored them with the others.

As you took your position back at the front, a hand softly grazed the small of your back, by possessiveness or just to ensure that you were alright, you weren't entirely sure. But Hunter's gesture was very much welcome.

The bow was a game-changer. The weapon may not be able to kill them, but it could very easily gain you some time when needed.

Now, if luck could still stick by your sides, the next useful thing you'd find was a shelter.

In the following hour, you managed to scare away the next 3 Algax you encountered with a single arrow neatly shot between the hollows where their eyes should be and avoided another Kribat.

Apparently, these two species were the main population of these parts of the jungle, it was a two-edged knife. The boys got used to hiding around the environment and knew how to react properly at an Algax jumping on them out of nowhere, but you knew those weren't the only danger around. Would they react adequately when a new monster presented itself?

Tech changed his opinion on your weapon, affirming that he'll have to build one himself, more technological of course, improved like he said. You kicked his shin at the 'less-primitive' insinuation behind his words.

"It's a great weapon that deserves respect Tech." You reprimanded, arrow pointing to the ground and ready to engage if needed.

"It does need improvements!" He countered on the defensive and he proceeded to explain what he would do to add more strength to the bow, allowing it to shoot further and at a greater impact.

Just as Hunter shushed the engineer, you heard your name being whispered in the distance. Fear tensed your muscles in apprehension, expecting claws to tear at your skin any second now. Time went on without any foes jumping out of the shadows, prompting you to continue your route with the others, passing it for the wind or a trick of your mind.

That is until everything went downhill.

"Do you guys hear that?" Wrecker suddenly asked, immediately catching everyone's attention.

Silence followed, seconds after seconds passed in utter silence until, "That! Heard that?"

"No." Hunter stopped the group to ensure that they weren't missing something important.

"Wrecker, what is it? What do you hear?" A cold sweat ran down your spine, already knowing what he was going to say but praying otherwise. This couldn't be happening.

"It's 99." Even without knowing who was 99, you knew that it would end badly, there was too much raw worry in his voice to calm him down in so little time. "He's in danger Sarge!"

"No! Don't listen to it!" You jumped out to grab his armor, his hand, his blaster, anything really, not that your small muscles would have been able to stop the bear of a man anyway but your body thought it could.

He was unexpectedly fast for someone his size, easily dodging your hand to push through his brothers like they were nothing. He ran like a desperate man chasing a dream and it hit you like a punch to the face. This was exactly it. His most desperate dream finally came true to haunt him.

As you expected, the boys were on his tail in a heartbeat.

But as you ran after them, you realized that for a team comm that should be flooding in orders for Wrecker to stop and pleas for him to understand that this was a trick, it was dreadfully quiet.

Your blood froze in your veins as soon as realization dawned on you like a an ice cold bath.

They all believed it.

#bad batch x reader #tech x reader #crosshair x reader #wrecker x reader #hunter x reader #clone force 99 #star wars #clone wars #good night good luck #sergeant hunter #angst

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sidespromptblog · 5 years

Text

We Don’t Need You: End

One, Two

Summary: “This isn’t some kind of logic problem that we can think away Logan!” Virgil snapped at him, “For once just let us deal with this, you don’t need to butt in when you think that we’re too stupid to handle something. We’re FINE,” Virgil growled, his voice growing more and more distorted with each syllable. “We don’t need you right now.”

Word Count: 1800

“It’ll be okay, I promise.”

Logan woke to the gentle swaying motion of being carried in someone’s arms, the world coming back to him in waves of sound and sensations of touch. The soft material of the sleeve of whoever was carrying him tickled his nose as he restlessly turned his head into the crook of their arm. As embarrassing as it was, a whine of discomfort easily fell from his lips as a jolt of discomfort rocketed through his body like an iron hot poker, the others had never said that it would be easy to return when he was already halfway gone, and he was certainly feeling it now. It felt like every single joint in his entire body had at one point been twisted wrong, just to incorrectly be set back in place as a fine layer of agony swept across his bones. He wanted to stretch, he wanted to ease himself out onto his bed until all of his bones cracked or popped in one way or another.

“Shhh, it’s going to be okay Lo, I promise. It’ll be okay.” Roman’s cracking voice rang dully in Logan’s ears as the swaying motion picked up again, this time at a downward slope as the creative side gingerly made his way down the stairs. “I promise.” He choked out, sounding as if he were practically on the verge of tears in that very second as he cradled Logan as softly and as carefully as he could.

The tight ball of tension in his chest had eased as soon as Logan’s form became less ghostly and more and more solid with each second that passed by. Roman, of course, would never admit it, but seeing Logan.. Half faded laying out on his bed just a few moments away from being gone forever, it was a sight that would stick with him and it was something that would undoubtedly haunt his nightmares for every night that he remained alive. Right now though, he could do little more than hold Logan closer to his chest, assuring himself that everything would be well, even if… if that was a bald-faced lie and the most furthest thing from the truth.

He didn’t need Deceit to tell him that things wouldn’t be okay for a long time, he knew that.

Patton’s head snapped up as soon as Roman’s foot connected with the bottom step of the stairway, the fresh tear tracks on his face beginning anew as soon as he caught even the tiniest glimpse of Logan nestled among Roman’s arms. A hoarse and ragged sob crawled its way out of his throat, burning its way up with a vengeance as he scrambled over to Roman’s side. He couldn’t help but to touch Logan, to assure himself that their dear logical side was still very much there. He had screamed, louder than he ever had before when he noticed the hoodie that had been tied over his shoulders fading away after Logan had left them. That had been his first clue that something had gone horribly horribly wrong.

“Is he… Is he okay?” Virgil’s voice pipped up from the couch, out of all of them he had been the only one not to get up when Roman had made Remus break down Logan’s door, and judging by the clenching and unclenching of his fists he was forcing himself to stay put and not get up to check on Logan. “He’s… he’s o-”

Roman’s stomach and teeth clenched at the same time, “I don’t think that you deserve the right to ask that question,” He coldly replied, something akin to ice settling under his skin as he shivered with the kind of repressed rage that almost made his teeth chatter in his skull. “You’ve got a lot of apologizing to do when Logan wakes up,” He scornfully hissed out as he as gracefully as he could, set the logical side down on the couch covering him with everything single blanket that Patton had conjured for him. “We all do.”

Virgil’s eyes darted away from Logan, as guilt, unlike anything, crawled under his skin like a festering sore that had been left untreated for weeks. He hadn’t cried like Patton and Roman had when it had become obvious what Logan was doing, he had… for lack of a better word, gone completely numb when he had seen Roman slamming his fist against Logan’s rapidly vanishing door. It was like a cold that had swept through his lungs and choked him for every breath that he took, was that what it had been like for Logan? Was that dead numb feeling the very thing that their logical side had to deal with, and the very thing that they had poked fun at him for years? Was that what it felt like to have no idea about how to feel again?

He was an asshole.

There was no other way to put it, when he was stressed he snapped at the people closest to him with little regard as to how they would feel about such a thing. He had never apologized, not even when he had become accepted among the others, he had never apologized for some of the mean things he had said. He had never apologized for targetting Roman’s low self-esteem, he had never apologized for throwing underhanded comments at Patton knowing the other wouldn’t understand them, and.. and he had never apologized for constantly taking swing after swing at Logan when the logical side had only wanted to help and be given credit for his work.

If Logan had died then.. then...

Before he even realized it his makeup was smudging his face as cold tears swept down his face, ruining his white foundation and his eyeshadow alike.

If Logan had died, then he never would have gotten the chance to apologize, hell… the last thing that he would have said to Logan would have been how they didn’t need him. Something that was the most furthest thing from the truth, they needed… Virgil needed him. But he could never properly show it could he? Whenever he got angry, whenever he got tired, and whenever he got stressed… his words were barbed and they cut whoever was closest to him. He hurt the others, in ways that pure unfiltered Anxiety couldn’t ever hope to do, but Virgil could.

Would an apology even be good enough?

“Crying over me? Careful Virgil, people might talk.”

A choked sob curled up from the back of his throat as Virgil’s eyes snapped over to Logan, his entire body shook the very second he locked eyes with the logical side. Eyes that despite everything… despite what he had said… didn’t look angry. He looked tired yes, that much was a given, but he also had an air of maturity around him as well. Not the fake maturity that he tried to pull when he wanted them to listen to whatever schedule that he had planned, but the kind of maturity that you only ever saw in old people who had lived well past their years. It still didn’t stop Virgil from crying, that much was for certain, as he scrunched up even tighter, tucking his knees under his jacket as if even touching Logan would bring him more harm.

“People do little else.” The words were strangled and rough but somehow it still managed to crack a smile on Logan’s face, and that one smile...it was like liquid sunshine, it was unlike anything that Virgil had ever seen or felt before…. It made him cry harder. “I..I’m sorry!” He blurted out, tasting salt on his lips as he carried on despite how his lungs were begging him to curl up in a corner and continue hyperventilating, “I had no right to say what I did, and I knew that it would hurt you and I said it anyway. We aren’t better off without you, I’m not any better off without you! I..I…!” Virgil sniffled roughly choking on each word as he tried to get them out, apologizing had never been so hard before, especially as Logan didn’t say a word letting him say everything he needed to. It would have been so much easier if he had just interrupted him to say something.

It would have been easier had he not been crying so much.

“Virgil.” Logan groaned as he attempted to sit up, just to have both Patton and Roman at his side easing him up into a sitting position where his bones didn’t feel like they were about to dissolve into acid. Reaching out, he gingerly rested his hand atop the anxious side’s knee, keeping it there as he looked right back into Virgil’s watery teary eyes. “What you said hurt, I will not be able to deny that. Quite frankly it broke what little heart I do have,” A sound of distress came from the others, but regardless he carried on. “So I can’t forgive you, I can’t just forget anything and everything that you’ve ever said to me before this moment in time. It hurt, words like yours leave emotional scars.”

Virgil slowly and sadly nodded his head, honestly, it was quite a stretch even thinking that Logan would be able to forgive him after what he had said. If one of the sides had said that to him, well… he had already ducked out, hadn’t he? What more could he d-

“But,” Logan interrupted, already seeing the spiraling thoughts written out all over Virgil’s face, “We are still friends, and if you really, truly, and honestly want me to believe that you’re sorry for everything that you’ve said… prove it.” Within an instant, he had his hand up as soon as Virgil’s mouth had opened, “I don’t mean right now, you’ll know how to prove it, maybe not now or even three weeks from now. But you’ll know, and until then…” With that said, Logan painstakingly flopped back onto the pile of pillows that Patton had been tucking under his head when he had been half-conscious, “Until then, come here.”

With that being said, Logan opened his arms, and without even thinking twice about it Virgil practically threw himself at Logan. Wrapping his arms around the other’s neck, clutching and squeezing him as if letting him go meant that he would vanish into smoke in that very second. His tears stained the side of Logan’s neck, but even then neither of them seemed to care all that much, not as Roman clambered between his legs resting his head on the logical side’s thigh, and not as Patton followed suit. His back pressed flush against Roman’s, as he used Logan’s other leg as a pillow.

Together they all laid there, all of them together.

#logan sanders #ts logan #ts logan sanders #roman sanders #ts roman #ts roman sanders #patton sanders #ts patton #ts patton sanders #virgil sanders #ts virgil #ts virgil sanders #lamp #romantic lamp #platonic lamp

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highqueenofelfhame · 4 years

Text

25 Days of Christmas: Day 25

The Scene: Rowan Whitethorn's Christmas Present to his girlfriend, Aelin Galathynius on Christmas Eve, 6.5 months before the birth of their daughter, Willow.

Rowan didn’t particularly like keeping secrets from his girlfriend -- but when they were secrets about how much he loved her he would sway the tiniest amount. Swaying a little on this day had lead to swaying a lot because today, Rowan Whitethorn had so many secrets that he was going to lose count of everything.

Right now, he knew that Aelin was at a salon being pampered in every way possible. Lysandra was doing her hair and makeup, they had hired someone else to give her manicures and pedicures. She had even had a massage this morning about an hour after she woke up and, according to her text to Rowan, she would have given the masseuse a happy ending if she wasn’t so in love with her boyfriend. He had laughed, rolled his eyes, told her he loved her, and then pocketed his phone and kept working.

All throughout today, Aelin would be following a series of clues throughout Orynth. All throughout the city where they’d fallen so deeply in love. Everything he had been working on for months now was finally coming to fruition and, as Lysandra texted him that it was “Go time.” he knew it was all about to pay off.

All over Orynth, their friends, even Lorcan, were stationed at different places that meant different things to Rowan and Aelin over the years. Their favorite date spot, the place they first kissed, the front door of his apartment where he had first asked her to be his girlfriend after he hadn’t been able to stop kissing her for half an hour despite wanting to drag her inside so horribly badly. All of the clues were cryptic enough that only Aelin would know the answers, and he was absolutely positive that she would. Over the last few months, every so often Rowan would bring up the little moments with her while they lay in bed, even letting them banter back and forth about big relationship moments. All of which he mentally ticked off to add to his list, to add to the clues that drag her all over Orynth while Lysandra and Aedion helped Rowan finish getting the ballroom in Orynth Castle set up just how it had been the night they had met a few years ago at the FBI Christmas Party. The first night when Aelin had introduced herself as the rookie and asked him to dance and subsequently stolen his heart in the coming months.

Asking her to marry him was a no brainer. They talked about marriage constantly, talked about having kids, had even almost said fuck it and started trying for one a few weeks back. Instead, they decided they wanted to be married and established first, to build their family on a solid foundation that began with Rowan and Aelin. They didn’t have doubts of the other, not at all. They just wanted to be positively sure that when a baby came, they were in a spot that they were financially stable, where they had a house, where they weren’t in their apartments anymore.

Well, they were in one apartment now, and later tonight Rowan would be taking her to their house. This was a Christmas that Rowan was quite certain he would never be able to top, not in a million years. This Christmas, Rowan was setting up every possible way for them to be perfectly sound so that after they got married, they would be able to start their family. He was ensuring their lives together, ensuring the she would be safe and secure and never have to worry about anything ever. Because he was going to protect her, to take care of her. He was going to be the biggest fan of her career, he was going to watch her grow through the bureau, watch her succeed and conquer everything she set her mind to. And then he was going to have a family with her, raise children with her, he was going to grow old with her and likely pass holding her hand. There was not a single thing in the world that Rowan wouldn’t do for this woman. Not a single godsdamn thing.

So when it was finally time, when it was nearly nine in the evening, and Lys and Aedion were hiding in a room with the rest of their friends and family to surprise her when she accepted his proposal, finally time for him to ask -- and he couldn’t find the fucking ring.

Any minute, she would be here, and the ring box wasn’t in his pocket. Fenrys didn’t have it, Aedion didn’t have it. He swore a thousand times as he realized he must have left it at home, but he didn’t have much time at all to consider who to kill because Aelin was walking through the door.

And she looked the most beautiful, the most radiant that he had ever seen her in his life.

The crimson dress that she wore had golden embellishments every which way over silk fabric. Layers of gossamer floated around her as she walked and the golden sparkle glistened in the low lighting of the ballroom. The red gloves she wore up to her elbows only made her look even more picturesque like an old movie star. No names rang a bell, however, because he couldn’t see anything but Aelin, couldn’t think about anything but Aelin.

Rowan stood, waiting for her in the corner by the table as he had been the very first night he met her, wearing a tuxedo with a black tie at his neck and one hand in his pocket. When she finally reached him, he could see the makeup she’d opted for today: simple winged liner and a dark red lip with contoured and flushed cheeks. Beautiful. She looked absolutely beautiful.

Already finding it difficult to speak, he held his hand out to dance with her.

“Oh, why not,” she teased, quoting back to what she had said to him the night they met. He led her to the center of the ballroom and led her into a slow dance, urging the roaring in his ears to ease, begging the emotions in his throat to calm so that he could get the words out before the tears fell. It wasn’t likely. He knew that.

“You look…”

“So good you’d leave your girlfriend for me?”

“You’re the only woman I’d leave her for,” he joked, pressing his lips to her temple. Rowan was jumping out of his skin, hardly able to contain his composure as he pulled back to look at her, completely in awe that in just a few minutes this woman would be his fiancee, and if he had any luck, in a few months his wife. Wife.

“I love you,” he said, unable to stop the tear that slipped from his face. Silently he swore at the gods for not helping him keep it together just a little while longer, but he didn’t falter in his steps. He continued to lead the love of his life in an easy dance around the ballroom.

“I love you,” she said back, wiping his tear with the satin of her glove.

“I know you do, Fireheart. Gods above I -- you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. You being my partner I think was the gods throwing me a damn bone because they knew I needed you after losing my parents. Maybe because you needed me, too,” Aelin mouthed that she did, and Rowan grinned, pressing the softest of kisses to her painted lips. “Every day I think that I can’t possibly love you more. But I wake up the next day and I do. I fall more in love with you every day, every single day. Through the arguments and fights, through all the gray hair you give me for running into danger without me right behind you. I fall more in love. I fall more in love with you through the laughter, through the soft moments you don’t let anyone but me see, and I’ve come to realize that there is no limit to what I can give you. All that I am, all that I have, is yours. Even when this world is nothing but dust, forgotten between the stars, I will still love you, I will still be giving you everything that I am.” Somewhere between words, they had both started to cry, both lost all sense of composure while he spoke. Aelin seemed unable to do anything but mouth his name on her lips as he dropped to one knee and took both of her hands in his.

“Aelin Ashryver Galathynius. Will you do me the extraordinary honor of becoming my wife?” The words weren’t even all the way out of his mouth before she was agreeing, nodding her head and saying yes over and over while she bent down to press soft yet hard kisses to his lips. Kisses that made promises of cold hands and feet wormed between his body and the sheets. Kisses that made him promises of burnt breakfasts and bad chocolate cakes, promises of bickering that ended in kissing, of fights that led to the growth of their understanding of each other. “I forgot you ring at home, I’m --” He was cut off by Aelin tugging the satin sleeve off her left hand, cut off by his own laughter that roared out of him as he took in the emerald engagement ring that was perched on her finger.

“I found it this morning and I knew,” she was laughing, too. “It was always yes to me, Rowan. It was always you from the very first day.” Dropping her glove on the ground, Rowan stood and swept her off her feet, spinning her in a circle as they kissed. Their family and friends ran out in celebration, Aedion and Fenrys chaotically shooting champagne bottles off over everyone. Soon, their skin was sticky with champagne and they wanted nothing more than to just go home and soak in a long hot bath together and celebrate alone, but they stayed and partied with their friends for a few more hours before disappearing into the snowy night once again.

Instead of getting into a car, however, Rowan walked her down the steps of the castle and helped her up into a horse-drawn carriage. A white fur coat had already been settled over her shoulders, and once they were settled he covered them both in thick blankets to keep them warm through the snow. Aelin rested her head on his shoulder while they rode out of it, their friends and family screaming behind them as though they had just been actually married. They spent half the ride sharing kisses and whispers of their love for each other, before the carriage finally came to a stop in front of a large brick house with each of their cars parked out front.

Rowan stepped out first, then helped Aelin down to make sure she didn’t slip in the winter slosh. He carried her to the sidewalk the let her down, laced their fingers and lead her up the walk to the front door.

“You didn’t.” Her voice was barely an awed whisper as he lead her inside. She wasted no time in stepping out of the shoes that she had told him twice were killing her, and lifting the hem of her dress so she could wander around. Their furniture had been moved in, today by their friends, and decorated with new things she’d not yet seen. From the look on her face, he could tell he nailed it, could tell that she loved it. After a moment, she turned to him, biting her lip.

“What’s wrong, love? Is it --”

“It’s perfect, this is… Gods Rowan this is the best christmas present I could have ever… nothing is ever going to top this. Like, ever, but I -- I need to tell you something before I let you take me into our bedroom because I won’t want to come out all weekend and I’ll never say it.”

“Is this… the part where you rescind your acceptance of the proposal and leave me for another man?” Rowan joked, stepping toward her to capture her fingers and press them to his lips. Aelin laughed loudly, letting him tug her body closer, letting him kiss her until she pulled back to look at him.

“Do you remember,” she started quietly, a fingertip tracing around his lips, then down his neck as she started to work off his bowtie. “The conversation we had about waiting for a baby?”

“I do.” Rowan wasn’t quite sure where this was going as he unzipped the back of her dress and she let it slide off her body to pool at her feet in a crimson wave. Aelin’s fingers were deft in working the buttons of his shirt, the button on his pants. She ran her hands up his chest to rest on the sides of his neck. “Are you wanting to start trying?”

“Well,” she said, lips twisting into a smile that Rowan thought he would never forget so long as he lived. “What if we… skipped the trying part and I maybe found out yesterday that we’re already pregnant?”

“Are you kidding?” The feeling of euphoria that launched through his entire body was almost too much for him to handle. It was almost the same as when she had accepted his proposal, as when she had agreed to be his wife.

“I’m so serious,” she whispered, pressing kisses to his mouth. “We’ve always sucked at being careful. I’m ten weeks.”

And then they were both crying, crying as he lifted her out of the puddle of her dress and lay her reverently onto their bed. Crying as he kissed every inch of her body with love and wonder. Crying as they made love into the early hours of the morning. Because this life? This life couldn’t get more perfect. There would never be a Christmas that would top this so long as he lived. He just knew it.

"Every day I think that I can’t possibly love you more. But I wake up the next day and I do" is something an ex of mine used to say to me and she deserves credit for it so bailey here’s your credit xoxo

tags: @starseternalnighttriumphant @mariamuses @keshavomit @faefromthenorth @ifyouwouldseemysoul @murlymoo150 @faerie-queen-fireheart @impossiblescissorspeachpaper @feyre-therabeaux @runawayrowan @someonemagical @stormymeow @singme-t0sleep @tswaney17 @shyvioletcat @city-of-fae @kandasboi @mynewdreamwasyou @tangledraysofsunshine @aelin-is-my-heart @empire-of-wildfire @mynameiscelaenasardothien @myfeyrelady @schmlip-scribble @musicmaam @nalgenewhore @westofmoon @aaronwarnvrs @acourtofrowaelinandfeysand @im-not-rare-im-rarr

#25 days of christmas #iihasts #if i had a soul to steal #iihasts:the proposal #rowan proposes #merry maasmas #maasmas #highqueenofelfhame #rowaelin #tog #throne of glass #tog au #throne of glass au #absentia #aelin ashryver galathynius #rowan whitethorn #willow whitethorn

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fics-by-maria · 5 years

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Our Deepest Roots (Part 3)

Previous Masterpost Next

Theydies and gentlethem, let's turn the plot up to 4000%

The doctors didn't know what was wrong with Tim. Or more accurately, they only knew part of what was wrong with Tim. The broken bones and torn skin was the easy part. What gave them pause was the black edges of his facial wounds that seeped into his skin, slowly creeping along his veins. They'd ruled out poison almost immediately, and whatever it was seemed contained to Tim’s body.

All further attempts to contact Damian had gone ignored and things were getting bleaker by the day. Crane’s or more accurately, The Scarecrow’s body had been found under the Trigate Bridge, barely a mile from Arkham Asylum, and it was rapidly becoming apparent that they were no longer the biggest fish in the pond.

“I can't do this! I can't watch us fall apart!” Dick threw his hands up in defeat.

“Dick I know, this is new..”

“New?! NEW?! BRUCE I AM WATCHING MY FAMILY FALL APART IN AN ENTIRELY NEW WAY!” Dick covered his face in his hands, he wasn’t prepared for this. Everyone he had ever lost had been a sudden, singular event and then he was left with the aftermath.

Bruce was.. helpless again, he couldn't throw money at the problem to make it go away, he couldn't fight the problem, and he couldn’t stop it, he just had to watch as his son wasted away. He was trying to hold everything together, but things were starting to slip through the cracks. Jason had retreated from them, preferring to leave rather than have his family taken from him. Dick was starting to fray around the edges, he was shaken deeply by Tim’s injuries and Damian's refusal to speak with them. Alfred was, well he was Alfred, normal and unshakable. He was seemingly unaffected by the chaos around him and went about his job as he always had. It didn't make Bruce or Dick feel any better though.

“Are you sure? It sounded really serious..”

“Angel everything on the news sounds serious, and if you want something to worry about check up on Adrien.”

“Okay smartass, for one thing it's two am there right now. And for another, Gabriel's disappearance from prison doesn't mean anything, he doesn't have the ability to create akumas anymore, we made sure of it.”

“Alright, but I still think you should check on him. I’ll see you tomorrow Angel, have a good night.”

Damian hung up, letting out a heavy sigh. They’d been together for almost two months now, and he was worried about keeping her separate from the danger that swirled around him was his top priority. He was sure that she was safe until he heard his mother speak from behind him.

“So you do have a weakness. It happens to the best of us” Talia’s voice was a tone of cold amusement.

“Leave her alone.” Damian bristled at the underlying threat in her statement.

“What does she know?”

“Nothing.”

“Would she follow you blindly?”

“I don’t know.”

“But you would do so for her.”

“Of course.”

Talia looked at him for a moment, analyzing him before nodding.

“Tell her. She’s either worthy or not.”

“Mom!”

“This is not up for debate, she either follows you or she’s disposed of before she becomes a problem.”

“Fine, but just so you know, telling women that you’re part of an organization of assassins who follow the will of a centuries old man isn’t a great way to set the mood.”

Marinette sat at her desk, typing a paper as her girlfriend got ready for work. Her and Kagami had been dating for three months and she’d also been dating Damian for two. Marinette was lucky to be blessed with two strong partners who understood that she could love both of them.

“Check me?”

“Flawless as usual.”

“Seriously Mari, if any of my makeup is slightly off it’s gonna cause a problem”

“It’ll be fine, what do you have to fear?”

“Imperfection.”

“Okay you need to calm down, you were made for this. Literally. Your training was all leading to this, don’t fear it.”

“Easy for you to say, you get the missions with creativity involved.”

“I’m not sure how creative my solutions are, all I did was push him off a roof”

“Ah yes, the bird. Isn’t he still in the hospital?”

“Lets just say that the shattered bones were the least damaging of the gifts I left him with.”

Kagami laughed and kissed Marinette’s cheek before letting her fasten her necklace. Giving her girlfriend one last kiss, she pulled up her hood and leapt out of the window, Talon once again gracing the skyline of the city.

-Tag List-

@crazylittlemunchkin @theatreandcomicfreak @captainmac6 @minty-goose @maribat-shenanegins @thatrandomfandomsgirl @violatiger8 @mochinek0 @tinyterror333 @noirdots @bluerosette23 @poshplumcot @danielslilangel @emjrabbitwolf @roseinbloom02 @indecisive-mess-named-me @mystery-5-5 @shizukiryuu @happy-little-sunshine-bug @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @northernbluetongue @friedchickening @ascending-donotdisturb @dont-touch-my-dinosaur @synnesstra @goldenmoonart @dontgiveaflyinflip @vgirl-10123 @rydellakurancarson @littleredrobinhoodlum @literalfantrash @vixen-uchiha @dudet @mellownieice @heaven428 @zerotosiki

#kagami tsurugi #marinette dupain cheng #daminette #damian wayne #dick grayson #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #talia al ghul #marigami #our deepest roots

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nicole-lynne · 5 years

Text

My Assassin Ex Boyfriend

Summary: You thought you were moving on from your ex, John Wick. But instead, he shows up and makes you forget everything you were fighting against.

Pairing: John Wick x Reader

Warning: NSFW 18+!! Public sex, slight mentions of killing, threats

A finger tapped nervously on the bathroom counter as water rushed from the faucet and you rolled back your shoulders that had become tense from overthinking. You reached forward and let your fingers dance in the liquid. It was relaxing and mesmerizing at the same time.

Tonight was your first date in months and the man, Ryan, was nice enough to help ease back into the world of dating. He was a pediatric surgeon with gorgeous blue eyes that had sparkled when you had opened the door. He had given you a bouquet of roses and your heart had thudded with a sad thought, but there was no way to know that you hated roses. So you just shrugged it off and decided to enjoy the next few hours. However, your mind kept slipping back to a certain brunette that still had a strong grip on your heart, no matter how hard you tried to fight it.

After an extended moment of longing, you shook your head and cleared your mind. You didn’t want to think about him tonight, or at all. In a swift motion, you soaked a paper towel and dabbed it across your forehead and, with one last look in the mirror, fluffed your hair back up. You twirled around and admired how put together you looked for the first time in a while. It had been longer than you could remember since you’d worn a dress.

You walked back to the table calmly, taking a chance to appreciate the man waiting for you. His golden blond hair was pushed to the side and his stature left him looking like a beach god. His light blue button up complimented his tan skin perfectly. But you also liked that he was trying his best not to look nervous. Your heart started to race just with knowing that you were having an effect on him as well.

When Ryan noticed you heading towards him, he leaped up and pulled the chair out for you.

“Thank you, that’s very kind.” You tilted your head away from his gaze to hide a blush. “But you don’t have to keep getting up to help me into my seat.”

Ryan gave a small smile, “It’s the least I could do for a beautiful woman such as yourself. Have I told you how gorgeous you look tonight?”

A light laugh fell from your mouth and you nodded as if it conced to what he had said. Ryan turned to gesture for a waiter and you let yourself sink into the moment a little bit more than before.

~~~

The conversation flowed naturally, which was making you feel much more relaxed. You leaned forward on the table causally and smiled up at Ryan as he animatedly told a story about a nine year old patient who had asked him to come to her school for a presentation.

“So she’s rearranging me where she wants me, and I realize, this little girl just wants me to act as a prop. I’m not there to talk at all-” Ryan stopped short and his smile faded, his eyes flickered from your face and up behind you.

Your stomach dropped with anxiety and you knew what you would find before you had even turned around.

Slowly, you spun around in the seat to see your ex-boyfriend, John, standing over you. A look of calm and control was masking his facial expressions, but you could see the rage behind his chocolate brown eyes. His dark hair was brushed back off his face in a sophisticated way. His muscular hand was gripping the back of the chair, his knuckles white with tension.

You stood up out of your seat and put your hand on John’s chest in one fluid motion. His chest muscles contracted under your hand and you fought to keep your heart rate restful. With patience, you stood still and waited for his eyes to find yours. It was difficult to resist taking in his form right in of you. A white t-shirt covered with a black sport jacket and dark jeans clinging to his legs. You had to admit that he looked good.

“John, what are you doing here?” You said in a hushed voice, trying to keep from making a scene. You knew what could happen if John was provoked.

His brown eyes finally slid from your date’s face to your beautiful, shining eyes. “I need to speak with you.”

With a shake of your head, you said, “No, John, we are passed talking.” You paused. “I’m-I’m moving on.” You cursed yourself for stuttering, but something about him always made the words disappear from your head.

Hurt reflected in John’s eyes for a fraction of a second and then it cleared like a passing cloud. Your throat tightened in anticipation. He straightened his back and and slipped around your form to face Ryan.

“Uh hello,” Ryan stood up awkwardly to meet the surly man and held his hand out to him, “I’m Ryan Cotter. Are you a friend of Y/N’s?”

John stared down at the outheld hand for a moment and you could see the wheels spinning. He was deciding if he should snap his arm like a twig or should he shake his hand like the humbled ex-boyfriend. The thought sent a twinge of sadness down to your heart.

“Yes, something like that.” John didn’t shake Ryan’s head but he didn’t break it either, so a sigh of relief escapes you.

Ryan dropped his hand and laughed awkwardly, “well, it’s very nice to meet you...” He trailed off.

“John Wick.”

“Yes, John, well, we’ll let you get on, I believe we may call it an evening.” He moved to steer you out but John planted himself directly in his path. Ryan cleared his throat and you let out a frustrated groan. You watched the tiniest of smirks ghost of John’s face and you knew he found this amusing.

The screeching of a chair dragging across the floor echoed throughout the restaurant and blood rushed to your face in embarrassment as all eyes fell on your party. John sat down at the edge of their table and folded his hands calmly. “I hear you are a pediatric surgeon, Ryan.”

Ryan’s eyes widened in surprise and began to stutter, “uh ye-yes I am.”

“With such a busy career, do you ever have time to go hunting?”

“I can’t say I’ve really ever enjoyed hunting. It’s kind of barbaric.” Ryan sent a confused glance your way as he answered the question. You were scared to see where this was going but you were also enraged that he had the audacity to do this to you.

“Oh, I can see how you would think that. But I’ve gotta tell you, your senses really heighten when you’re chasing down your prey. Knowing that you are all that stands between them and death. It’s very intense...” John’s voice was dangerously sturdy and his cold, unrelenting gaze was fixed on the young man.

A bead of sweat rolled down the side of Ryan’s face and you could feel the pressure in the room rise. You tugged on John’s jacket sleeve, trying to regain some form of control. Your shoe tapped on the floor, infuriated.

“John, you’re taking this a little far, aren’t you?”

Instead of an answer, John picked up a butter knife with his other hand and began to twist it into the table. “You really should try hunting sometime, Ryan. It’s really something else to see the life leave behind someon-something’s eyes at your own hands.”

Ryan was pale white and he looked like he could throw up at any moment, John smirked for a moment. Then a deadly look fell onto his face and he leaned forward menacingly. With each move he made, fury was rising up inside you. You wished he would burst into flames at that very moment.

“Do you want to leave, Ryan?” You could hear John ask. Ryan nodded enthusiastically. “Then leave. And maybe I’ll let you keep all your bones intact.”

At that sentence, Ryan leaped out of his chair and sprinted towards the door, not sparing another glance in your direction. You moved to run after him. John’s hand fell onto yours, stopping you in your tracks. You could hear a heartbeat beating erratically and then you realized it was yours.

“How dare you. You are insufferable.” You spit at him.

“I did what I had to do to keep you safe.”

You scoffed. “He was a pediatric surgeon, for god’s sake. You are unbelievable.”

You yanked your hand out of his grip and stomped towards the door, disappearing into the chilly New York air. You wish you had thought to bring a jacket. But the whole night had been such a blur that it hadn’t really been at the forefront of your mind.

Vaguely, you could hear footsteps following you, but you weren’t afraid. You were angry.

“Y/N! Please stop walking away and talk to me.”

“You ruined everything on purpose, John. Now he’ll never call me again.” You huffed and increased your pace.

“Good. I don’t want him to call you.”

You froze in place. Turning slowly, you could see John a few feet away from you, watching your moves like you were a skittish animal. Your face pinched up into an angry scowl. “We broke up for a reason. You promised you would get out and you didn’t. Now you have to live with the consequences.” You hissed at him.

He took a step towards you, the shadows shielding his face, but his brown eyes were searching frantically for any sign of hope.

“Please listen to me. I can’t let you go, Y/N. You are my star in a dark night.”

A lump formed in your throat and you gulped it down. Tears threatened to form but you pushed it back, refusing to break down in front of him. The person you had loved for so long, the person you had trusted for so long until...

Another step in your direction, now he was right in front of you, close enough to lean up and kiss. His lips looked so soft and inviting. Your stomach was whirling with excitement and nerves. It had been so long since you had been this close to him.

“Just give me a chance to show you how important you are to me. I don’t know how to breathe without you, Y/N.” John lifted his hand and ran his fingers across your cheek. Your breathes were deep, anticipation rising in your stomach. Your eyes flickered shut and his touch was electric on your skin.

“I-I’ve been...” You mumbled, weakly shaking your head. John dipped his head down, close enough that you could feel his minty breath on your face.

“Can I kiss you, Y/N?” Passion laced his voice and you could feel it surrounding your body.

“You lied to me...”

“Not above loving you. Never about loving you.” His hand was wrapping around the back of your head. Your mind went blank.

He knew the words you needed to hear to feel safe again, to know that he loved you more than anything. You opened your mouth but he interrupted you.

“I got out, Y/N. I’m done for good. I left all of that behind for you.” He had barely gotten the words out when you crashed your lips against his. It was like fireworks went off and everything about John Wick was right for you.

A small grunt escaped him as he grappled to pull you closer to him, smushing your body to his. His hands searching every inch of you, the warmth of contact searing through your clothes. You bit his lip, an unspoken direction he knew all too well. With ease, he reached the back of your thighs and lifted you against him. You wrapped your legs around him and could feel him hardening beneath you.

In a split moment, John had moved you around the corner into a dark alley and a hard brick wall was a intense contrast against your burning skin. Your lips disconnected for a moment and John traced his tongue up your jaw to the sweet spot beneath your ear. A dirty moan fell from your mouth into his ear and John nipped the skin in response. Every action felt so familiar but so new at the same time.

Your hands slipped off his shoulders and underneath his shirt, needing to feel his skin. As you ran your fingers through the small tufts of chest hair, his hips bucked against yours and wetness pooled between your legs. John’s breath fanned across your throat as he pecked hot kisses on every inch of bare skin he could reach.

“John, I need you to touch me.” You finally said, breathlessly.

With those words, John groaned in satisfaction. His fingers drifted down your bare arms, goosebumps rising at his touch, until they stopped at the hem of your dress. He looked up at you with a questioning gaze and you returned his look with eager nod of consent.

When he saw this, he shoved your dress up your legs and bunched it at your waist. All thoughts of being in public had disappeared and all you can think about are John’s hands on your thighs, how close he was to touching you where you needed him most. He glanced down to see your panties pushed against his pants and his brown eyes darkened with excitement.

“I love you so much, baby girl.” He traced his index finger down the thin front of your underwear. “I’ll never stop showing you.” His thumb hooked and exposed you to the air. “I’m not worthy of you, Y/N.” Your breath hitches as John’s fingers hovered over you, teasing.

“Please, John...”

“What do you want, baby girl?” His voice is husky with lust.

“I want your fingers in me.” You demand.

Another smirk ghosts John’s features, “Is that how you ask, baby girl?”

Your lips slip into a pout and you whine just a little. You had forgotten what he liked. “Please, daddy, touch me.”

The words hardly left your mouth when he glided his index through your folds. You moaned loudly at the sudden feeling and his tongue slipped into your mouth to muffle the sounds. His finger circles your entrance to gather your wetness then moved to rub your clit. You’re head fell backwards with pleasure.

“You’re so wet, baby girl. Did you miss me touching you like this?” He rasped into your ear. You can feel him dragging his fingers closer and then he’s inserting just the tip of the index finger. His other hand is squeezing your ass cheek.

You moan again in response, trying to buck closer to him, trying to get anything he will offer.

A small chuckle rumbles through John’s chest, “You have to be quiet, you naughty little girl. You don’t want to get caught.” Another finger slides into you, pumping slowly, he’s driving you crazy with the slow pace.

“Daddy, please...” You’re panting heavy.

He puts a third finger in you and his thumb finds your clit, swirling around it once in a while, while he drives his fingers in and out of you. You bite your lip, trying to keep your whimpers low. You can feel it building and it’s harder to keep it together. Then, John starts tapping against your clit and within moments, you feel your orgasm wash through your body. His name is falling from your lips like a prayer, a prayer that you haven’t said in a long time.

You breath is still heavy from the intense orgasm and you’re full of desire for him. Your hands start to search for the button on John’s jeans, you pop the button and pull down the zipper fluidly. Hunger is radiating from his eyes. He wants to devour you.

You watch as John pulls his dick out of his boxer briefs, pre-cum dripping out of the tip. You instinctively bite your lip, dying to feel him in your mouth.

“I want to taste you, daddy.” He rests his forehead against yours, forcing himself to regain some control. Trying to ignore the urge to drop you to the ground and let you wrap your lips around his cock.

“Not here, sweetheart. I need to be in you.” John said firmly. His lips brushed against yours, wiping the pout from your face.

You could feel one hand tingling against the back of your thigh while he ran his cock against your pussy and slid into you. It was a moment of pure ecstasy as you remembered what it felt like to have him throbbing inside you. He paused to let you adjust to his size and began to pump.

John’s body was pushed against you, his grunts of pleasure against your neck. He’d forgot how tight you felt around him.

The two of you moaned together as his dick pulled against your walls over and over again. You could feel him fighting himself from letting go too early. You slipped your hand in between your bodies and began rubbing your clit back and forth. The intensity was rising at an alarming rate. Suddenly, he was hitting your g-spot and your eyes rolled back into your head for a moment.

“Cum for me, John. I want to feel your cum in me, daddy.”

He slammed into you with force and you groaned in pleasure. His mouth was hot on your shoulder, a love bite forming, and the pain was making everything feel a thousand times more intense.

“I’m gonna cum, baby girl.” John grunted.

You flicked your clit one final time and a powerful orgasm hit you. Your pussy was clenching against his cock and with one last pump, you felt his whole body shudder and you were being filled with his hot cum.

He lazily pumped into you a few more times, you squirmed at the sensitiveness, and then he pulled out of you. John smiled and started kissing your neck and brushing your hair out of your face, slowly letting your legs down to the ground, holding you up so you don’t collapse.

“Well that was unexpected...” You laughed out.

He chuckled and nodded, “What can I say, you’re the only one I want to be with. I’ll do anything to keep you.”

John wrapped his jacket around your shoulders and pulled you close. “I love you, my queen.” He kissed the tip of your nose as you grin up at him in awe. You’re heart felt so full to be back near the man who had always been your person.

“I love you too, John. And I’ll never let you go again.”

#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick: chapter two #john wick: chapter three #lemon #keanu reeves #boyfriend #assassin #reader insert

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vagrantblvrd · 5 years

Text

Carve It in Stone (1/1)

Summary: Ryan’s gotten sloppy since Trevor’s been dead.

Notes: Prompt fill for Anon who wanted to see Red Hood Trevor from my Batman AU idea???

(Read on AO3)

Ryan’s gotten sloppy since Trevor’s been dead.

Trevor can’t tell if Ryan’s doing it on purpose, daring all of Gotham to realize he’s not joking when he flashes that charming little smile of his and laughs that annoying idiot laugh.

Winks at the camera – always one of those around him, he’s a Haywood after all – and claims he really is the Batman, why are you all laughing?

There are so many – so fucking many – video and audio clips from interviews or press conferences surrounding some crisis or other where he just up and confesses.

Over and over again, with all these jokes and ha, ha, ha, and a little put out that no one ever seems to believe him.

Not that anyone would consider Richie-rich Ryan James Haywood could be capable of a fraction of the things the Batman’s done. (Most think he can’t even tie his own damn shoes without help.)

And when he’s not baiting the press, all of Gotham, he’s just.

Careless.

So many clues he leaves behind about Batman’s identity, why it’s almost like he wants to get caught.

“Idiot,” Trevor says, little twinge of something that might have been fondness once upon a time.

Before Joker and his crowbar, glaring red numbers counting down and everything that followed after. (The waters of the Pit burning, searing, remaking him into whatever he is now.)

Now -

It feels like bitterness, resentment. This flare of anger as Trevor looks up and sees all the photos pinned to the wall of his safehouse.

Batman and Robin swinging over the rooftops of Gotham like everything before it didn’t matter. Like Ryan didn’t learn a damn thing when Trevor died. Making the same mistakes over and over again, and someone needs to do something about that, don’t they.

So.

Better get to it.

========

The new Robin is fast, Trevor will give him that.

Quick little bastard and clever about it, flips and rolls and flares of his cape – bright flash of color against Gotham’s gloom – and the usual thugs and bruisers always, always go for it.

Take the bait and turn and aim, bang, bang, bang always a step behind because again, the kid’s fast.

Smart-mouthed too, even if he’s not quite up to par with Jeremy and his comedic timing. Snappy one-liners and zings.

Trevor watches it all from a nearby rooftop. Robin up against a couple of goons who tried mugging some little old lady out waling her ankle biter of a dog.

Sound of his bo staff cracking against a jaw, the strangled bellow and sound of a grown man falling to his knees in pain. Stunned as he cradles what’s sure to be a fracture of some sort and that’s interesting, isn’t it, when Ryan had come down so hard on Trevor that one time.

Robin backpedals as the second thug thunders towards him, big and imposing and furious after seeing his friend go down.

Rolls out of the way of a booted foot aimed at his kneecap – flash and whirl of his cape – stylized shuriken flying out from behind it as he buys himself a little time, some space. Meaty sound of one of them embedding itself in the thug’s arm and a snarl coming from him like a wounded dog.

“You fucker!”

Trevor snorts, taps the barrel of his gun against his leg as Robin shoots the thug a look – offended, almost – and then he’s moving forward.

Bo snapping out as the thug raises his gun, blood dripping from his arm, and smacks it away like an afterthought. Follows up with another strike of his bo – glancing hit – and pursues the thug who’s the one trying to retreat now.

Snapping and snarling and hopelessly outclassed, he never sees the kick aimed at his jaw, too focused on the damn bo staff Robin uses as a distraction. Flash and spin, streetlights catching off the gleaming metal and Robin’s a vicious bastard too, it seems.

Stands over the thug for a long moment, and prods him to make sure he’s not feigning unconsciousness before he gets out the zip ties.

It would be easy, Trevor knows, to teach him a lesson right now.

Drop down from his vantage spot and drive the point home with his fists, heel of his boot. Wing the little bastard with a bullet from his gun. Ooh, or maybe he could use one of the knives Talia gifted him with as a parting gift he hasn’t had the chance to use just yet.

But.

It’s too soon.

Ryan doesn’t even know there’s a new player in town yet.

Just goes about business as usual, punching and kicking (occasionally gadgeting) the bad guys into groaning piles of bruised and battered and sending them back to Blackgate or Arkham as the situation warrants.

Goes off to play with the Justice League when there’s a major crisis every so often.

Baits the press with that running gag about being Batman – it’s appalling, really, how he still gets away with that – and thinks his little world here is safe.

Well.

Safe as it could be, given Gotham’s very nature.

Thinks he’s got it all under control, has thought up every possibly scenario and planned accordingly with all those contingency plans of his.

Paranoid as all hell and still, Trevor knows, still so damned blind.

“Next time,” Trevor says, tossing off a little salute to Gotham’s little songbird as he heads off to really get things rolling.

========

Black Mask is easy.

Smarter than most, sure, but when it comes down to it he’s still predictable.

Ego to him because he’s the Black Mask.

Everyone in Gotham knows who he is, what he does to those who make an enemy of him, and it’s made him...not quite complacent, but he’s certainly lost whatever edge got him where he is today.

Makes it easy for Trevor to disrupt his operations, swing his attention away from all his goals and ambitions and this new figure in the shiny metal helmet. (Helmet, hood, it’s all semantics, isn’t it?)

Has him focusing on Trevor and the way he’s dismantling everything he’s built up on the bones of others. (Bone and flesh and blood, human suffering and this dark spark Trevor gets now. Has buried deep in him too thanks to the Pit and what it gave him, curled in the back of his mind and whispering to him always.)

And Ryan? He’s just as easy.

Notices the way Black Mask is just so agitated these days, fending off attacks and so, so angry at this new figure looking to make an example of him and his.

Throwing money and every available body he has at Trevor to make him go away, and Ryan just has to stick his nose into things. Needs to know what’s going on to cause Black Mask’s little breakdown-in-progress.

Perfect.

========

“Look at you,” Trevor says, chuckles at the way Ryan’s glaring at him. “New suit?”

More heavily armored than the one he wore when it was Trevor at his side all those years ago.

Meaner looking.

Voices drift up to them, yelling and shouting and all sorts of commotion.

Ryan’s silent.

Still.

Stoic is the word that comes to mind.

Standing across the roof from Trevor in all his Battish glory, bit of a breeze playing with the hem of his cape. (Gotham is almost as dramatic as certain residents.)

All kinds of tech and gadgets on him because he’s the Batman, and that’s part of his shtick. Almost certainly recording their conversation to analyze once he gets back to that little clubhouse of his under the manor.

Trevor hums, nods his head because yes, yes, still the same stubborn bastard as always, Ryan.

Childhood trauma and far too much money, and anyone else would be dead by now if they’d tried the same thing as the idiot before him.

Traveling the world to train, hone his body and mind into this weapon to combat the sort of depraved monsters who left him an orphan.

Oh, he would never think of it like that.

Would insist it’s a noble endeavor he set off on all those years before, long before Trevor was even born. That he’s doing it to protect the people of Gotham, prevent the same from happening to them. (The dark knight the press and so many others refer to him as, and still so blind.)

Takes in orphans and urchins, gives them a home and a purpose.

A suit and a cape and utility belt with all the latest gadgets, and if they’re lucky, if they’re good, they get to live. If not...well.

You get things like Trevor, don’t you.

All twisted up inside, wrong in all the right ways. (Or perhaps it’s the other way around?)

However you want to look at it, you get something like Trevor, and when you put him back in a city like Gotham with people like Ryan and all his mistakes, it’s not going to be a pretty thing.

No, not pretty at all.

Trevor snorts, turning to look down at the burning warehouse below them as emergency crews scramble to contain the fire.

Someone’s screaming.

One of Black Mask’s men suffering from nasty third-degree burns on top of what Trevor did to him to get the answers he needed.

Ryan interfered before Trevor could put the poor bastard out of his misery, more’s the pity.

He’ll die slow now. Pain eased by whatever drugs they pump into him, but Trevor and Ryan both know he won’t make it through the night.

Thank God Ryan saved the man from a bullet to the head only to drag out his death longer than it needs to be.

(Such is mercy..)

“Good talk,” Trevor says, suddenly in no mood to deal with Ryan or his codes, his morals and ethics and goddamned high horse right now. “I’m sure we’ll be doing this again.”

He keeps his voice light, playful, lets the voice modulator do its job to add another layer of complication to things for Ryan, and pulls a small remote out of his jacket pocket.

Holds it up for Ryan to see, waggles it a little, thumb hovering over the big red button.

Watches as Ryan finally reacts, starts to move, but Trevor’s just that tiniest bit faster.

Presses the button and gone in the moment it takes Ryan to decide on an action, the small charges he set earlier going off further down the street.

Big flashy things meant as distractions because Trevor’s a monster, yes, but his grudge isn’t against Gotham’s emergency crews.

Still, Ryan doesn’t know that yet, and he goes for the bait.

Spends a split-second too long agonizing over whether to pursue Trevor before a secondary explosion goes off and the choice is made for him.

Noble endeavors and Duty, and Ryan’s still so predictable.

========

The thing that absolutely kills Trevor about all of this is how stupid Ryan is.

“You get what I mean, don’t you?”

Robin is watching Trevor like he thinks Trevor’s a lunatic.

He’s not wrong, so Trevor lets him have that one.

But really.

Ryan’s goes around playing the role of Ryan Haywood, richie-rich and possibly stupidest man alive just so no one will twig to the fact he’s also Batman.

Big scary asshole in a suit and cape and all his little gadgets and smart as he is, he’s so damn stupid.

“Joker’s still out there!” Trevor yells, and okay that, that is what’s at the heart of this. “That bastard is still out there killing people and what does Batman do about it?”

Fights him again and again and again, just to send him back to Arkham until the next time he breaks out to start the cycle over.

And it’s not just Joker, it’s every other asshole like him.

It never ends because Ryan is too blinded by all his ideals and morals, his ethics.

Privilege.

Joker is out there right now, some new twisted plot playing out while Ryan runs himself ragged trying to stop him. So, so stupid and look what Trevor found while Ryan’s attention is elsewhere?

Little (not so little) Robin all on his lonesome and easy pickings.

Trevor’s not angry at Ryan for not saving him from Joker in time.

No.

That’s not what this is about. It’s never been what it’s about. (Even if there’s some small part of him that wonders why. What he did wrong that Ryan didn’t save him when he kills himself for complete strangers night after night, but he knows, doesn’t he. Trevor was never enough, and that’s fine. It is.)

Ryan let the Joker live.

Put him back in Arkham and just went on like that bastard hadn’t taught him a valuable lesson by killing Trevor.

Went and got himself a new Robin, even.

Bright young man and potential to him Ryan’s sure to ruin before long.

Feisty.

Put up quite the fight when Trevor found him, but Trevor’s been at this longer. (Trained with assassins, and hadn’t that been an eye-opener.)

Plays dirtier than the Batman’s good little sidekick.

Fights mean and nasty, plays for keeps.

“We don’t kill,” Robin says, parrots Batman’s line as though Trevor’s never heard it before, like he doesn’t know.

Trevor laughs, but there’s nothing like amusement in it.

“Oh, I know all about that,” he says, because Ryan’s an idiot.

So here, Ryan, have a little refresher while you’re gallivanting about being a hero.

Robin’s all trussed up at the moment, and while Trevor knows it’s only a matter of time before he frees himself -

“Might want to rethink your career path,” Trevor says, and shoots him.

He sees Robin’s eyes widen in the moment before he fires, and it’s not personal this, not really.

It’s Ryan and his choices, the mistakes he never learns from. (Tough love, minus the love.)

Robin sags in his chains – because Gotham and its Drama, presentation - and Trevor goes over to check on him.

Purses his lips when he sees his suit did its job in stopping the bullet. The impact was a doozy this close, though, wasn’t it. Knocked him back, head cracking against the wall he’s bound to, put him out like a light. (Easy.)

Trevor pats his cheek, smiles to cover up the uneasiness he feels seeing a Robin like this, echoes of a dream or something along those lines.

(A living nightmare and a crowbar bearing down on him, Joker’s grating laughter and pain bleeding into everything.)

A perimeter alarm goes off, and Trevor glances over at the laptop he has set up. Cobbled together warning system to let him know Ryan finally noticed Robin had gone silent on him, came to investigate.

Watches Gotham’s hero miss every damn camera he placed in his haste and wants to laugh because lord knows Trevor always got an earful about that kind of mistake during his time as Robin.

“Oh, Ryan,” he sighs. “No gold star for you.”

Still.

Best not be around when Ryan makes it past all the traps and other fun things Trevor left out for him.

Let the bastard stew a little longer once he gets Robin back.

Wonder why the Red Hood bothered with any of this, why he didn’t just kill Robin while he had the chance. (Why, why, why, and no answers to any of it, not yet.)

Trevor shoots the laptop, lips stretching into a thin smile because Ryan’s going to have a hell of a time getting anything out of it now.

Not impossible, because he has all his gadgets and tech wizardry at his beck and call – has Oracle – but it’s going to cost him time. Effort. Have him working overtime to pull anything useful out of what’s on the hard drive when Trevor’s never been that stupid.

Leaving him bread crumbs that Ryan will have to work for if he wants to find out what the Red Hood’s planning.

“Good luck with that one, Ryan,” Trevor says as he turns to leave because it’s going to be one hell of a ride.

#ragehappy #batman au #prompt fills #anon #implied/referenced torture #implied/referenced character death #temporary character death #Kings of Nowhere #vagrant fic

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goldeneyedgirl · 5 years

Text

In honour of Valentine’s Day...

Have a sample of “All These Broken Things”. One of my very first Twilight fics, unfinished and never published, depicting an AU were Alice was forced to stay with James, Victoria, and Laurent, and never met the Cullens until that baseball game.

And yes, this is because I have made peace with not getting anything else finished today.

One.

The moment they step onto the field, they are unwelcome.

She doesn’t need to guess at what they see when they look at her. She is the smallest of the quartet, and the most pathetic. Her hair hangs limp and uneven around her face, her eyes pitch black, underscored with purple-black smudges. She wears a pair of jeans that are clearly several sizes too big, her bony knees poking through holes, the cuffs long since torn away. Her cardigan was once blue, now brown-grey, her tank top little more than a worn rag hanging from her frame. Her bare feet are covered in mud and blood, and she walks with a limp, her gait more like a half-skip to keep up with her companions.

She stands behind the trio, staring at the ground and looking miserable enough that Esme is staring at her with pity.

She looks no older than fifteen or sixteen, her arms wrapped around herself as if she still feels the cold.

She flinches when they become aware of Isabella, and again when James grabs her by the arm and drags her away, almost too fast for her to keep up with. She doesn’t look back at them, and for the moment, remains forgotten by the Cullen clan. Her mind, whilst erratic, holds nothing of interest for Edward with James’ eyes squarely on Isabella.

Then Laurent goes to them, and tells them that James will hunt Isabella fiercely, and that ‘the little one’ is a psychic. That she will see their decisions, their plans. There is no way to win.

But they try anyway. It doesn’t matter how powerful the girl is, there are six Cullens to destroy them; they don’t stand a chance.

She watches them carefully, and tells James what he needs to know. That the human girl is in the care of two of the Cullens – Emmett and Rosalie. That they are headed towards Phoenix, where Isabella’s mother is. That Isabella Swan will come running at even the tiniest hint of danger towards her absent mother.

She tells James everything she sees, like a child reciting a lesson, staring straight ahead. She hasn’t fed in almost a month, and the fresh cracks across her nose and cheeks will take time to heal.

Perhaps she should feel guilty that she’s signed this girl’s death certificate, but she cannot make herself care. She wants to laugh hysterically, and sob that after so long, after so much went sour and so much was lost, she still stumbled into their path, broken and ruined and useless. Fate is just taunting her now, showing her what she cannot ever have.

James takes her with him to win his prize, a broad smile on his face, but sharp, calculating eyes. He sees every flinch, hears every stammer, and remembers them for later. He strokes her hair and murmurs into her ear, that she is disloyal, that perhaps Isabella will make a good pet, a loyal slave. He’s growing bored of her, and sweet Isabella would be such a delectable replacement.

Her heart jumps at that threat, but instead of fear it is dull hope that it’s all going to be over soon. She will greet death like an old friend if it frees her from James.

Of course, in her heart of hearts, she knows that James doesn’t have the control to change someone, that he is feral, rabid when he finally finishes playing and feeds.

That Isabella Swan will be mutilated and butchered before she dies, and she will continue this miserable existence.

James laughs with the joy of the hunt, and expects her to smile too. She plays her part, a stiff, brittle smile, and wonders again what she did that was so terrible to be forced into such a life.

Two.

She’s huddled in the corner of the ballet studio when Isabella arrives, hugging her knees to her chest and staring. She has a fresh bite on her shoulder and a renewed sense of self-loathing, terribly aware of every place on her body James has touched her. But he is in a good mood. He has won the game.

Again.

James bows to her, like a courtesan – he always loved an audience – and throws Isabella around the room like some kind of toy. The scent of blood is heavy in the room, and if she didn’t know better, know the rules and the punishments, she would lunge, would tear into the poor girl.

He has done the unthinkable, the impossible, and subdued the monster inside her. A pathetic whine of hunger, and she sinks back into herself.

The wet, meaty thud of Isabella’s body hitting the floor is the most terrible sound in the world, second only to the sound of her bones snapping, a cracking sound that makes her flinch.

She watches James torture Isabella (just like all the others; she pretends to have lost count, mostly because she would have to count herself in that terrible list and that is not something she wants to think about) when the Cullens spill in, like a righteous army. Edward slams into James, and she is shaking, whimpering as they descend upon him. It is surreal, watching him howl as he is torn apart, as the fire is lit and stoked. His head stares into her eyes as he burns, and she wonders vaguely if she was supposed to help him.

She wouldn’t have, but she wonders if he expected her to.

When they turn on her, she lets out a keening cry and tries to make herself smaller. Emmett and, oh, her Jasper. Their faces are stern, blank, as they stare down at her, and she shrinks back ever further, the plasterboard buckling against her weight. Waiting for that inevitable moment their hands close over her skinny limbs and feed her into the fire.

She can’t help but stare up at them, memorize what they look like in person, rather than a second-hand daydream.

Emmett shakes his head and says something quietly, turning away from her to check James’ funeral pyre and on the broken form of Isabella Swan, surrounded by the remaining Cullens. She expects her life is tied to Isabella’s – if the human girl dies, she will be added to the pyre with no regret.

“You’re coming with us,” Jasper says flatly, in a grim voice and he grips her arm, pulls her to her feet and escorts her like a prisoner from the dance studio, Emmett following them, shielding her from seeing the broken form of Isabella.

They wait in an alley a few blocks away, thick city air washing away the rich scent of human blood. She can hear rats skittering amongst the dumpsters, and she is suddenly starving, her mouth full of venom. Only two things stop her from lunging for the garbage – that these clean and well-dressed Cullens might choose to eat animals but they would never be forced to stoop to vermin, and the urge burns her with both shame and indignation.

And that if she moves from where she is crouched, she is positive her Jasper will take her head off with no questions nor regrets.

She doesn’t move.

#fic: all these broken things #fic: atbt #alice cullen #twilight fic #my fic #WIP #jasper hale #cullen family #twilight au #fic preview #i will finish it because it is my baby

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askthetriokzt · 6 years

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// Updated the Verses page, so if anyone would be interested in setting up a rp for any of the verses, feel free to send me a message.

Verse 1 - Default. The standard verse and the verse I will default to. AKA, following the canon timeline with the trio being the same age as our main cast of students, 1st years.

Verse 2 - Pro Heroes. Still following the time line but now, the characters are aged up to be in their mid to late 20s (sometimes like 26-29) and are now pro heroes. Team Harmony is making a name for themselves, a team of three very different people with vastly different quirks but with grade A team work and communication. Most of their fights are won using their wits and disarming the enemy, usually ending with Kodo’s spore attack, but that doesn’t mean that they lack strength.

Verse 3 - Cant Stray From a Classic, Villain AU. Still following the canon time line but the trio lived very different lives and are now walking the path of evil. They actually dont even know each other or talk. This can be combined with Verse 2 where they are also adults, but the default will be about 15-16 years old.

In the villain AU, the character certainly have changed a lot. Kodo probably changing the most. Kodo was always a small and timid girl, an easy target for both bullies and the world itself. Sadly, no one was there for her, no one came to her rescue, it was here that Kodo learned something very valuable. “We all start out the same, with simple naive trust, shielded from the many ways that life’s not fair or just… But then there comes a moment, a simple truth that you must face, if you depend on others you’ll never find your place.” It was either stay stagnant, just always a helpless ball of weakness, or stand up and take control, if you’re the one on top, then no one can step on you, right? If you’re the one on top, no one can back stab you, yes you’ll be alone but, the best way to survive is all alone. So now, many years later, Kodo is no longer this sweet and kind person, no longer accepting of other, no longer caring about the growth of others, she’s cold, seeing people as nothing more but pawns for her own gain and amusement. Sooner or later, someone will betray her, so might as well snuff them out before they get the chance. She is now known as ‘The Puppet Master’, controlling every aspect of the battle, even your own comrades, just for some extra amusement. At anytime, she can just fill the air with deadly pollen, but wheres the fun in just watching people drop like flies? Why not watch them squirm and try to get back control, only for her to yank it back, just out of reach each time, watch them slowly break and crack… Also, dont trick yourself into thinking that she might see you as an ally or that she might care about you, cus she doesn’t. At any chance she gets, she will tear you down, make sure that you are well below her and that you know it.

Zackery is just a ball of fire. He’s loud, high energy, and proud. Sadly, he never really got a proper outlet for all of that energy, only ever saw his fire as destruction, and with no other outlook, why not just follow the path that was already laid out for him? Besides, this world is full of people trying to get to the top, trying to snuff others out, and Zackery refuses to let anyone snuff his flame out. Anyone who even gives him the single thought of betrayal or a threat, they get snuffed out by his own flame, hot and unforgiving. Maybe throw in some 'Iron Bull’ torture to set an example for anyone who breaks his trust. Who knows. Fire is unpredictable and hard to control after all. Respect and serve him, and you’ll be fine. But make one little mistake, take the tiniest step out of line, and its all over. Fire gives no second chances, so why should he? You live by his rules, you die by his rules. He might not be the smartest, or the best planner, and he knows this, but he refuses to let anyone be above him or better than him at anything. Anyone like that, poses a threat, and all threats must be torched. No one calls him by his real name though, he goes by 'Mera Mera’ now. The only growth that happens under him, is the death count.

Tachi was gifted with a great power, but was given so many limitations… was it really as strong as it could be with all of these rules? These rules were just a cage, to hold him back, to stop him from rising to his rightful place as the strongest ever… even stronger than All Might. After the world stole his eye, stole half of his sight, stole his dream of being a hero, so now he’s going to steal something of value from as many people as he can, an eye for an eye turns the whole world blind. Tachi now lives by his own rules and his rules alone, no one else can ever hold him down, no one can hold him back from what he truly deserves, what is rightfully his, and he will take it, take it all without a second thought for anyone else. He goes by no name, other than his own, even if it means forever tarnishing his family reputation, it means nothing to him, why should it when they left him when he needed them most after all? Fair is fair. A power that should be feared, its just so easy for him to snap those toothpicks that others call their bones.

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