#'how can we as first-world countries suck the entire world dry if we had been the ones who came up w the bri' n also i just watched a vid

[zillennial97]

Enemies to Lovers | Larry Fanfic Recs

Walk That Mile by purpledaisy | 149k | Explicit

Harry stares at him, the line of his jaw standing out scarily. “I wanted to get the most out of this trip so I planned it carefully.” His voice is low and steady and somehow that’s worse than when he was yelling. “So far, you’ve put your sticky fingers on everything I’ve tried to do.”

“Sticky fingers?” Louis repeats, offended. “Are you saying it’s my fault you got stung by a bee? Had you been alone you would have gotten halfway to the Dotty Diner and ran the car off the road because of an allergic reaction, so don’t go blaming me.”

“Polk-A-Dot Drive In,” Harry spits before getting out of the car. He slams the door shut with a deafening reverb and Louis rolls his eyes.- A Route 66 AU where falling in love was never part of the plan.

Unbelievers by isthatyoularry | 136k | Explicit

It’s Louis’ senior year, and he’s dead set on doing it right. However, along with his pair of cleats, a healthy dose of sarcasm and his ridiculous best friend, he’s also got a complicated family, a terrifyingly uncertain future, and a mortal enemy making his life just that much worse. Mortal enemies “with benefits” was not exactly the plan.

Or: The one where Louis and Harry definitely aren’t friends, and football is everything.

we're not friends, we could be anything by nooelgallagher, yoursongonmyheart | 115k | Explicit

Louis narrows his eyes at Harry. “What that supposed to be a fucking joke?”

Harry narrows his eyes right back. “It was a good joke.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Jokes require laughter, Curls.” Louis glances down at Harry’s thighs again, Christ. “Your pants must be so tight they’re restricting airflow to your brain.”

Harry wipes a bead of sweat off his forehead. “Pretty sure yoga is supposed to increase airflow, blood flow, and all that,” he responds dryly, finally jumpstarting himself and walking away from Louis towards his own bedroom.

Louis can’t help but stare at his broad back, still sheen with drying sweat, and his perky bum in the tight yoga pants.

Louis swallows. Christ.

...Or, the one where Harry and Louis are unlikely uni flatmates who definitely don't like each other and definitely won't fall in love (even if Liam and Niall think otherwise).

Our Lives, Non-Fiction by indiaalphawhiskey | 113k | Explicit

Heralded as the next Neil Gaiman, Louis Tomlinson does not appreciate being told that his very serious novel is in dire need of a PR boost. Even worse, that it comes in the form of a joint book tour with the UK’s #1 online romance-writing sensation Marcel Styles. Already turbulent at best, their partnership takes a drastic turn when, overly stressed about his looming deadline, Marcel accidentally blurts out a secret: though he’s famed for his scorching hot literary love scenes, he is, actually, a virgin.

Convinced that the only way to rid himself of writer’s block is to gain some experience, Marcel asks Louis, author-to-author, to sleep with him – for Science. And of course Louis agrees because, well, what on Earth could possibly go wrong?

Or, a lesson in romance that proves that sometimes the best love stories aren’t always by the book.

Soft Hands, Fast Feet, Can't Lose by dolce_piccante | 112k | Mature

American Uni AU. Harry Styles is a frat boy football star from the wealthy Styles Family athletic dynasty. A celebrity among football fans, he knows how to play, he knows how to party, and he knows how to fuck (all of which is well known among his legion of admirers).

Louis Tomlinson is a student and an athlete, but his similarities to Harry end there. Intelligent, focused, independent, and completely uninterested in Harry’s charms, Louis is an anomaly in a world ruled by football.

A bet about the pair, who might be more similar than they originally thought, brings them together. Shakespeare, ballet, Disney, football, library chats, running, accidental spooning, Daredevil and Domino’s Pizza all blend into one big friendship Frappucino, but who will win in the end?

Dance to the Distortion by Lis (domesticharry) | 96k | Explicit

Louis accidentally breaks Harry's camera lens and in order to get it fixed, they decide to participate in a romantic couples study. The only issue is that they are not actually couple. Well that and the fact they cannot stand each other.

You’ve Got My Devotion (Hate You Sometimes) by lucythegoosey | 95k | Explicit

Harry was in the biggest boy band in the world. He was also one half of the best (or worst, depends on who you ask) kept secret relationship in the music industry.

Now, almost five years on, after One Direction has broken up, and Harry and Louis' relationship has as well, a video threatens to put everything at risk.

One determined Irishman, a massive publicity stunt and two begrudging exes are all it takes to bring One Direction back to life and maybe, just maybe, Harry and Louis' mangled love life too.

Or: Harry and Louis are forced to fake-date after an old video from when they were dating emerges.

The Sidelines by RedRidingStiles | 47k | Explicit

"Alright, I know you guys are the best of friends but I'd like you to do this for the rest of the team,” Cowell says, making the rest of the team snicker. "So I want both of you to compliment each other." "I hate your trainers. I mean that in the nicest way possible. They're very...yellow," Louis says, arms crossed as he offers a fake close-lipped grin. "It's really nice of you to blow anyone you find slightly attractive," Harry replies, a sickening sweet smile on his lips. "Thank you, children, let me remind you this is a college hockey team. Try again," Coach says, completely unamused.

Or Harry and Louis play hockey for Penn state and can't stand one another, since they can't keep their hatred off the ice their coach and team do what they can to keep their hard earned spot in the playoffs and their two star players from killing each other

Wonderwall by AFangirlFantasy | 43k | General Audiences

Taking the sheet cluttered with times available for the next few weeks, Louis notices a pattern in the list. The name of the person Perrie had just mentioned: Harry Styles. It’s written at least seven times, and three of which are during timeframes Louis wants.

“Who the fuck is Harry Styles?”

“You’re about to find out,” she answers, pointing over Louis’ shoulder.

Or a Love/Hate College AU where Louis Tomlinson is the lead singer of The Rogue - the most popular band on campus - and Harry Styles is the talented Freshman unknowingly challenging all that.

All the Right Moves by cherrystreet | 32k | Explicit

This is the third game in a row that Harry has been distracted by the noisy boy in the stands, five rows back.

There’s really no reason that he should feel compelled to stare into the audience as frequently as he is, but he can’t help it. This boy is a nuisance. And he’s loud. Even from basketball court with nine other players running by him, shoes squeaking on the shiny hardwood floor, and thousands of cheering college students, Harry can hear this boy nearly shrieking, his laugh more like a cackle than anything.

It’s seriously obnoxious.

Nicotine by KrisStylinson | 32k | Explicit

"We're two different types of people, Liam. He likes sex and drugs, I like theater and tea. Trust me, we'd never date." Except they would, they do, and neither of them plans on letting go anytime soon.

"Just because you can get me hard doesn't mean I like you," Louis whispered. The fact was, he didn't like Harry right now, not at all. Not even a bit.

"Yeah, yeah," Harry murmured, his breath fanning over Louis' cock as he spoke. "You done telling me how much you hate me so I can suck you off?"

Like Candy In My Veins by littlelouishiccups | 31k | Explicit

“Um…” Harry said slowly after a moment. “Okay. That’s… this is… Let me get this straight.” He lifted up a hand and swallowed. “You told your family that you have a boyfriend… and my name was the first one you thought of?” “Harry Potter was on TV, alright? It wasn’t that much of a stretch.” Louis pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t believe he was explaining himself to Harry fucking Styles. He couldn’t believe he was stooping this low. “Forget it. I’m sorry I even thought about bringing you into this.”

Harry snorted. “What? Did you want me to pretend to be your boyfriend or something?”

(Basically the A/B/O, enemies to lovers, fake relationship, Christmas AU that nobody asked for.)

We're Like Bumper Cars by sincehewaseighteen | 31k | Explicit

“I have won, I won the final cross country. I win, Harry--”

“Whoever gets to fucking nationals wins it, pretty boy,” Harry teases. “You haven’t won. Interhouse is nothing compared to nationals, or interstate. You haven’t even won interschool. You can dream all you fucking want that you’ve won.”

Louis becomes so ignorant he decides to no longer eye the boy taunting him. “Trophies prove it all, Styles.”

“Where’s your trophy for biggest asshole?”

“Where’s yours for winning cross country?”

Harry growls before hooking his fingers in Louis’ belt loops and bringing them together for a flat kiss.

Or the AU where Louis and Harry are rivals of the century and Cross Country competitors before things get complicated and they play pretend.

After Hours by Velvetoscar for shipsdrifting | 26k | Not Rated

Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson are the bane of each other's existences. Unfortunately, they're already in love--even if they aren't completely aware of this minor detail.

[A "You've Got Mail" AU]

When It's Late At Night by Rearviewdreamer | 25k | Mature

Louis has zero interest in an ex-boybander turned solo artist when his appearance on the show gets announced, but that's exactly who he gets stuck with when Harry Styles shows up at the Late Late show to promote the release of his debut album. For an entire fucking week.

Or

The Late Late prompt that we all need to get through this excruciatingly hard time.

Love Me Please by angelichl | 23k | Explicit

Louis hates Harry, which is fine because he would really rather prefer to avoid him at all costs.

The only problem?

They're soulmates.

runnin' like you did by orphan_account | 20k | Explicit

“Should we tell him?”

When Lauren is met with everyone either nodding their heads or shrugging, she takes a deep breath. “I mean, I think it’s pretty obvious by now.” She stalls, sounding ominous and Louis doesn’t like it one bit.

“What is obvious by now?” Louis asks. He’s starting getting anxious. “I swear to God, spit it out. Stop being so damn cryptic.”

“I—We think it’s pretty obvious that you’re in love with Harry,” she states simply and shrugs as if she isn’t telling him he’s in love with the second—Nick being the first—most annoying person on the planet.

or, a college au where Louis knows how to hold a grudge and is definitely not in love with Harry Styles

Three French Hems by 100percentsassy, gloria_andrews | 20k | Mature

In which Louis is a designer at Burberry and Harry spends December wearing Lanvin… and Lanvin… and Lanvin.

once bitten and twice shy by pinkcords | 19k | Mature

This time as his stomach rolls, there’s no doubt about it. He’s going to vomit. And if he does, it’ll be on Louis’ shoes, a nice little parting gift to go with the embarrassment he’s caused the both of them. “I’m gonna throw up,” he says just as Louis turns to look at him, blue eyes swimming with shock and confusion, and asks, “Is that true?”

Or, in a rush of bravery only senior year can bring, Harry confesses his feelings in a letter to his neighbor and best friend, Louis, only for the entire school to hear it and laugh him out of their small town in Wisconsin. Ten years later, Harry's a successful lawyer at Columbia Records, coming home for Christmas for the first time since he departed for college. He plans to work his way through the trip, eat his mom's cooking, and avoid everyone from his past for as long as possible. The only problem is best laid plans hardly ever go as intended.

That's How I Know by allwaswell16 | 19k | Explicit

Louis Tomlinson has just landed his dream job, coaching soccer at Augustus University. When he moves into a new house near campus, he meets his very fit new neighbor, English professor Harry Styles. Although their first meeting leads to an instant mutual dislike, the more Harry gets to know Louis, the more he likes what he sees.

Or the one where Harry’s African grey parrot spills his dirty secrets to his very hot neighbor.

Get Off of My Cloud by Marora_Daris | 9k | Explicit

Harry is the most annoying neighbour that sexually frustrated Louis could have. Niall decides it's a good idea to handcuff them together.

Featuring guinea pigs, animal print leggings and inappropriate boners.

Erase My History, (Expo)se Me by BayouSexual, pacificrimjob for Edandcurly | 6k | Teen And Up Audiences

“My hair does not smell like strawberries.”

Louis blinks up at Mr. Styles. “I never said your hair smells like strawberries. How would I even know that?” Harry’s hair does smell like strawberries, Harry himself smells like strawberries, everyone who’s been within three feet of him knows this. ~~~~~~~~ Or the one where Harry and Louis both teacher history, their students think they should date, and one pink dry-erase marker is trying to ruin their lives (with a little help of course).

#larry fanfiction recommendations #larry fanfic rec #larry fic #larry fanfiction #larry stylinson #louis tomlinson #harry styles #one direction fanfiction #one direction fanfic recs #larry fanfiction masterpost #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends to lovers #hate to love #enemies with benefits

[lubdubsworld]

Falling for you ( Falling from Grace ) Jungkook x OC

Summary : Friends with benefits? Or maybe Enemies who just happen to fuck? Areum and Jungkook love driving each other crazy, but also can’t keep their hands off each other.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6  

Chapter 7

Author’s Note : This isn’t a chapter update. Just a snippet of how they met ;) 

Two Years Ago ~ How they met. 

“So, first day at work?” My sister gave me a bright, vibrant grin as she watched me shimmy into my slacks , struggling to yank the skin tight fabric up my legs.

I was half tempted to just choose something a little less form fitting but, Jung Hoseok, my soon to be boss was a hot piece of ass and I wanted to make an  impression. 

The kind of impression that would end in me , under him , horizontally. And him well, inside me preferably. God , he looked so hot in those fitted suits of his , dark hair falling into his face . That sharp as a blade jawline and that beautiful damn smile. He was so humble and friendly, which meant that he had a gorgeous daddy dick and knew exactly how to use it. 

My sister, so attuned to my thinking , read my mind like a book. 

“Don’t even think about sleeping with your boss again. That's how you got fired the last time remember?” She said sharply.

I rolled my eyes.

“I quit. Because he lied about being divorced. There’s a difference.” 

“Still Hobi is a stickler for rules , don’t do anything stupid.”  She warned. 

I grinned a bit. 

My perfect, holier than thou sister would never understand the thrill of good sex, I thought . And one look at Hoseok told me that he had bomb dick game. And men didn’t really care about rules when they saw my ass in this particular pair of pants. It was a theory tested and proven. 

“Its not stupid to want to ride a gorgeous man into the sunset. It’s the only fairytale ending I believe in “ I said loftily. 

“Well, I’m only looking out for you , Areum. I am incredibly proud of you for landing this job. Jeon Inc., is one of the biggest conglomerates in our country. You did well.” She looked annoyingly bright and cheerful for someone who had actually got up at the ass crack of dawn to make me breakfast and had then driven half way across Seoul to deliver it at my apartment. 

I loved her with my whole entire heart but my sister had a tendency to sometimes treat me like I was still five years old. 

Which I loved, most of the time. 

But not when I was already running late for the first day of work. 

“unnie, i love you but you need to go suck Seokjin’s dick and leave me alone.” I grinned wide at her and she turned an alarming shade of red. 

“Areum!!!!!”

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

“So, you’ve familiarized yourself with all the Office policies, right?” Hoseok narrowed his eyes at me and I groaned.

“Yes.”  i muttered, morose.

“Yes?”

“Yes sir.” I groaned. God, he made me want to kneel down and suck his dick but also made me want to knee him in said dick, at the same damn time. 

“Especially the clause on interpersonal relationships in the office and the dress code.”

I gritted my teeth. 

Ugh, no amount of daddy dick was worth putting up with being talked to like an errant school girl , 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Good. Now, we have a well stocked wardrobe department in the fifth floor. I would suggest you go change into a more suitable pair of work pants “ He waved his hand, dismissing me and I turned around, trudging back to my desk. 

So much for nailing the boss.

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

I was a little awed that the company had a bunch of things for the employees . Things I’d never heard of before. There was an actual ‘nap’ room where you could take a twenty five minute nap , once a day. A wardrobe department for when you needed to change your clothes and  a whole garden out in the terrace for team meetings that were informal. 

Apparently, the entire set up had been designed by the younger Jeon kid, Jeon Jungkook. The whole thing was patented in his name and he was also a super talented digital artist, evident in the bazillion gorgeous murals mounted all over the office,  all of them signed with a beautifully scripted “JK”.  

 I hadn’t met him yet but he was apparently incredibly smart, incredibly handsome and also the biggest man-whore in the entirety of Seoul. 

Which fair enough. i didn’t begrudge good men the right to pussy. And if he was getting so much of it, he was probably good at what he did. That was cool. 

What wasn’t cool, was him apparently leaving his cum stained fucking pants in the  closet in the Women’s section . The same closet i had dug into five minutes ago looking for appropriate clothes , only to have my hands met with a damp, sticky white mess that clung to my fingers like ...well like cum. 

“What the fuck....!!!” I screeched in disbelief, stumbling back and landing hard on my ass, shaking my hand in despair like that could get rid of the grossly disgusting mess that now coated my digits. 

Completely out of it, I wiped the mess on my blouse of all thing, realizing a split second too late , what a bad idea  that  was. 

“Oh, gross!!” I sobbed out in disbelief .

“You alright, angel?” 

The words came from right behind me and i whirled around, surprised. 

I got the wind knocked out of me as i stared at the fine , fine specimen standing in front of me. ‘

it was a face that looked like it was straight out of the most luxurious fashion magazines in the world. Beautiful ebony black hair that fell into deep, almond shaped doe eyes. Eyes that fairly glittered with mischief. He had a nice strong nose and a beautifully red pair of lips , quirked up in a wide smile. 

“You alright?” His voice was perfect, not too deep but with a masculine cadence to it. 

He was completely shirtless, grinning like it was going out of style,  as he pulled on pants over his gloriously muscled thighs. I watched him carefully tuck his underwear in, before buttoning  the pair of jeans up. 

He was tall, just a little shy of six feet and had the body of Adonis, with broad shoulders, beautiful pecs and drool worthy abs that tapered to a ridiculously tiny waist. 

I stared down at my hands and his eyes followed mine. 

“Oh, my bad. I thought that was the closet for the used clothes.” He grinned unrepentant. 

it took me a second to realize that it was his cum.

I was covered in his cum. 

“What?!” I hissed in disbelief , staring at him in pure horror. 

He held his hands up. 

“This is not my fault. The girl told me she’d swallow every drop of it and then choked half way through-”

“Oh my fucking God...” I groaned in disgust. 

“Although I’m not complaining now... Wouldn’t have met you if it weren’t for her... What’s your name, pretty?” 

I stared at him, slightly slack jawed. 

What kind of a man whore-

I froze. 

No way. It can’t be.

“Jeon Jung Kook.” I said drily. 

His eyes widened. 

“Well now you have the advantage ....i don’t know your name.” He pouted. 

“You should be in a cage.” I snapped, turning back to grab the nearest skirt. I moved to leave but he stepped in my way, blocking the path with both hands held up. 

“What are you doing?” I narrowed my eyes at him. 

Jungkook chuckled.

“Come on baby..Don’t be mad.. Its just a little bit of cum. Granted you did not get the pleasure of getting it out of me yourself but that can easily be remedied if you just-” 

“You will not have a dick to cum out of , if you don’t move right now.” i warned him. 

Jugkook’s eyes widened at that.

“Um... you do realize who I am?” He smirked. 

“A man whore with bad taste in hook-ups? A girl who can’t even swallow? Really Jeon, how desperate were you  ?” I smiled. 

His eyes danced at that.

“ Not as desperate as I am now.... Go out with me.” 

I laughed, shaking my head.

“Not happening. Get out of my way.” 

Jungkook let out an actual groan at that but he moved aside nonetheless. 

“What??..come on, please , angel, just one date.....” 

I shook my head. 

“ I’ll send you the bill for my dry cleaning Jeon.” I flipped him off before stalking right out of the room. 

“Gonna make you fall in love with me, new girl.” He called out from behind me. 

I scoffed at that. 

Yeah right.

Author’s Note : I had to write their first meeting okay???? I’ll update tomorrow or the day after . 

@veronawrites

@ladyartemesia

@jincentvangogh

@unicornbabylover

@ggukkieland

@yoongisdragon

@aamxxrii

@brooky95

@apollukee

@taesgalore

#jungkook smut #jungkook fics #bts smut #bts au

[gumnut-logic]

The Cane (Part 2)

@flyboytracy​ asked:

Steampunk AU: five uses for a cane and one time Scott used it for its intended purpose 😘 

Part 1 | Part 2

And here we have number two :D A bit longer than expected and I will be falling face-first into bed shortly, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.

Many thanks to @janetm74​ @tsarinatorment​ and @scribbles97​ for all their help and amazing support of my crazy. And to @flyboytracy​ for asking in the first place.

Use Number Two...

-o-o-o-

2.

There are places in the ocean where the natural forces of the planet cause a lack of wind, a becalm that is the bane of wind reliant seafaring vessels.

Thunderbird Five had no such issues and in times of need, these quiet, still places were a refuge for tired bodies and minds.

A series of rescues off the coast of Chile that saw not only strenuous physical activity, but also almost violent politicking on John’s part. The world agreed, in the majority, to the advantages of an International Rescue organisation, but there were some outliers.

Suspicion was high in a few countries and while John spoke a multitude of languages, not all the brothers had managed as many and the grapevine had identified their country of origin to be English speaking.

Not everyone loved the English speaking world.

Regardless, International Rescue persisted. There were lives at stake and they needed saving.

Sometimes it wasn’t easy and this was one of those times.

Grandma had called for time off, and it had been with some relief John steered his ‘bird out into the expanse of the eastern Pacific into one of those pockets of beautiful calm.

They were lucky this time. The ocean surface was gentle, the swell minimal and Five had been able to surface. A careful manipulation of her propulsion system and she was maintaining a stable hover. Her huge expanse had her forming an island in the middle of calm sea.

Waves brushed against her flanks.

From her dorsal hatches a weary crew crawled out into the sun.

Grandma was adamant that they all receive regular sunshine and here in the sub-tropics, there was ample.

Scott climbed the ladder, cane in hand, body aching from the roll down a mountainside it had endured the day before. He had bruises on bruises and Virgil was hovering like a flying bug that just wouldn’t go away.

His fingers gripped the edge of Five’s hull and he clambered out on to the damp cahelium.

She was already warming in the sun, her stealth-dark, midnight blue skin sucking in heat and drying quickly.

Scott straightened, stretching his back. His cane hit cahelium with a thud.

“You watch you don’t scratch John’s ‘bird. He’s upset enough after having to deal with that governor.” Virgil poked his head out of the hatch behind Scott, following like the shadow he was.

Scott couldn’t complain too much. Virgil had been the one to pull him off the side of that mountain and he had received quite a scare.

The hovering was the result.

A whine from within in the submarine. “John, you’ve got an obstruction in the dorsal hatch. Have you got a torpedo I can borrow?”

Virgil twisted and glared into the hatch below. “Gordon!”

“You have a tear in your breeches, dear brother. I’m seeing things that would have Grandma blushing.”

Virgil grunted, twisting again. “Very little makes Grandma blush. She has seen you in your birthday suit multiple times, after all.”

“Move your derriere, Virgil. I need some sun.”

Scott turned his back on the both of them and limped across the top of his brother’s ‘bird.

Dividing the massive expanse was her huge dorsal fin. It served a dual purpose. There was, of course, the stability it supplied to her underwater flight, but it also provided a division between the two hidden launch platforms embedded in her structure.

Five needed to surface just like this to deploy two of her sister Thunderbirds. On the starboard side a huge section of her hull opened like a door to the sky...which is exactly how it felt when Scott was sitting in One and Five’s hatch levered her vertical enabling him to launch into the blue.

On the port side, the hull would slide back and the floor of the hanger would angle up, pointing Thunderbird Two at a forty-five degree angle so Virgil could fire her engines. She launched in as spectacular a fashion as her sister, engines clawing into the stratosphere.

But neither hatch was open right now. Both One and Two were hidden in their hangars, ready for new deployment as soon as it was needed.

The mud they had had to clean out of their ‘birds had taken a long time.

He exhaled and let his shoulders relax just a little. The salt in the air was ever so refreshing.

“How are you feeling?” Virgil’s voice was quiet behind him.

Scott fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Perfectly well, Virgil.” He may have been leaning on his cane a little more than usual, but that is what the thing was for, wasn’t it?

His brother grunted, eyeing him. “Do you want to sit down?”

A glance at Virgil and his eyes were caught by Gordon behind him, hauling several folding chairs out of the hatch, followed by a chattering Alan.

The sounds were rather homey and reassuring.

Grandma appeared with food and drink and Scott actually smiled.

Their grandmother was an amazing woman. Not only was she a medical doctor, one of the first women to take on that traditionally male qualification, she was also determined to look after them despite the fact they lived on a submarine.

Scott could have argued that Thunderbird Five was no place for a lady – if he wanted his intestines served up to him on a plate.

He didn’t.

His grandmother was a staunch supporter of the women’s suffrage movement. Scott couldn’t help but agree with women’s rights when he had such a capable and strong example right before him.

That and she could cook like she was heaven sent.

His brothers spread out the chairs and a few tables. Grandma had obviously picked up some supplies from their stop over in California the week before.

Scott took a seat and both a small stack of sandwiches and a tall glass of lemonade appeared beside him. He would have complained about the smothering, but he was distracted by an argument brewing between his two youngest brothers.

The lemonade was divine.

“She is big enough.”

“No, she’s not.”

“Yes, she is. I bet you fifty dollars.”

“Gordon, if you think Johnny is going to let you play baseball on the back of his ‘bird, you are off with the fairies.” Virgil was striding over to both of the youngest who were hovering off to one side, obviously conspiring.

The thought of a baseball match was amusing when he pictured John’s response.

But for once, he let it go. Virgil had it in hand, his second discussing the topic with Alan and Gordon in a low but strident voice. Trusting his brother, he ignored them, focussed on his lunch, and drank more of that delicious lemonade.

At some point, Grandma sat down beside him and they discussed their next movements – whether to follow the weather or centralise ready to respond as quickly as possible wherever they were needed.

It became very obvious that his grandmother had picked the topic for a reason as she eventually made her point that they needed some extended rest time.

She even informed him that Virgil had also been injured the previous day. Mildly, but a wrenched shoulder was an injury nonetheless.

His grandmother had held him back and hissed at him to keep it quiet. Virgil was taken care of, but he and the rest of his brothers needed time to recuperate.

Scott seethed that his brother, who was still frowning at Gordon, hadn’t informed him of the injury. Grandma claimed that Virgil had come to her for some of her creams and she had no wish to betray his trust, but they needed to slow down for a little while.

Scott shifted where he sat and his entire body complained.

Perhaps she had a point.

He sighed, swearing under his breath enough for her to frown at him, but he nodded in agreement. Three days of rest.

His grandmother had a beautiful smile.

Especially when she achieved her goals.

She patted his leg gently before standing up. A shadow passed over the sun and Scott looked up to find her propping up one of her parasols on the back of his chair.

“What are you doing?”

“Too much sun can burn. You know that. But you need the fresh air.” Her purple satin skirts rustled about his shoulder and they triggered memories of his younger self spending time with her.

It was comforting.

Enough for her to secure the parasol and scamper off to do the same for John, who had fallen asleep three chairs over, before Scott could object further.

His red-haired brother was exhausted, and his head had fallen back, gaping at the sky. In that position, it was likely his tongue would get sunburnt.

Grandma was right…as usual…they needed time to recover.

Alan, Gordon and Virgil were still huddled off to one side and the murmur of their discussion, combined with the warmth of the day and the lap of the ocean, melted him just a little. His muscles unwound. The aches in his leg and his bones were still there, but with the thought of time to rest, some of the tension began to slip away.

He must have dozed off at some point because he was startled awake by the sound of breaking glass.

“Oh, hell.”

“Alan, you clutz!”

“Gordon!” Virgil’s admonishment had Scott blinking into full consciousness.

The remains of that amazing lemonade lay spread across the table, his pants, and Five’s hull.

There was glass everywhere.

“What?”

Alan came hurrying over. “I’m sorry, Scott!”

He stared wide eyed at his little brother. “What were you doing?”

“Uh, playing baseball.”

Scott stared at him before turning to see both Virgil and Gordon looking rather sheepish on the far side of the submarine. Gordon had what appeared to be a length of wood in one hand.

Grandma bustled over and handed Gordon a rag and an empty bowl to gather up the pieces of glass.

There were stern words.

Scott’s brain was still trying to connect the dots, his brain slow to cycle up.

Gordon elbowed Virgil in the ribs and whispered something at him. Virgil glared in return.

Grandma reappeared with a broom and Alan was marshalled into sweeping Five’s hull.

Scott closed his eyes and shook his head before grabbing his cane and levering himself to his feet.

Everything creaked.

A stride or two towards his guilty-appearing brothers and his body loosened into its more familiar flexibility. “What exactly are the two of you trying to prove?”

Gordon stuck out his chin. “That baseball can be played on the back of a giant submarine in the Eastern Pacific.”

Scott stared at him a moment before dismissing him as a lost cause and turning to Virgil, who he had thought was much smarter than this.

“Your excuse?”

Virgil shrugged. “Just having some fun, Scott.’

And there it was – the likely reason Gordon and Alan had involved the engineer. Virgil never did anything without a logical reason and when asked he always…always…had the answer that softened Scott to the point of forgiving almost anything.

However…

“What about John?” He glanced over at his brother and found him still down for the count. Ever so tired. “You could have hit him, or Grandma or me. Baseballs are not soft. You could have done some serious injury.” It was very much unlike Virgil to take such a risk. Even Gordon wouldn’t do such a thing.

“That’s why we didn’t use baseballs.” Virgil held up a round white object which he then proceeded to squash between his fingers. “I used some of our aerated rubber solution to make a dozen or so soft balls. They float, have low impact damage, and Gordon is planning on a swim to collect every single one after the game.”

Logical and always had the answer.

Scott picked the ball out of Virgil’s hand. It was soft, very squishy and made from the rubber foam they stored in Two for stabilising structures.

He squeezed it again.

It was rather satisfying to watch it reinflate.

“Want to play?” The dark eyebrow that arched up at him knew exactly what it was doing.

Scott pressed his lips together.

Virgil fought back a smile.

Damnit.

“Fine. Who’s pitching?”

Gordon snorted a laugh. “That was Allie and he took out your drink.”

“It wouldn’t have broken anything if you were half capable of hitting a ball.” Alan sounded very put out.

Grandma urged him to keep cleaning.

Scott broke into a grin. “How about I give it a go and you pitch?”

Gordon matched his expression and stole the ball out of Scott’s hand. “Sure. Batter up.” He held out the chunk of wood that was apparently serving as a bat.

Scott frowned. It looked suspiciously like a table leg. Hmm…

“No, I think I’ll use this.” He held up his cane.

Gordon arched an eyebrow. “Really?”

Scott smirked a little. “Yes, really.”

His brother shrugged and threw the table leg down with a clatter that had John muttering in his sleep.

Scott dug his little brother in the ribs.

“Oops, sorry.”

That earned him a grunt.

They ended up moving the game further away from their sleeping brother. Gordon complained that he would have to swim after all the balls and every single one was likely to end up in the water.

Virgil said it would do him good and might even be fun.

Gordon’s response was enough to earn him a glare from Grandma.

Scott bit his lip to stop grinning harder.

Virgil set himself up as catcher. Gordon paced out a distance and curled up in a way that was somehow what a pitcher was supposed to do. The brass of his prosthetics shone in the sun.

But then Gordon had always been an odd pitcher.

Scott levered his cane onto his shoulder and tensed, ready to hit the ball.

Gordon grinned somewhat devilishly.

“Bring it on, fishboy.”

-o-o-o-

John had slept very well. Fresh air often did that for him. By the time he woke, the sun was starting to dip towards the horizon.

“How are you feeling?” Grandma was sitting beside him, a small smile on her face. A book lay in her lap.

“Good.” John returned the smile. The breeze had picked up a little and he could hear it in the waves as they sloshed against the side of his ‘bird.

A frown. “Where is everyone?”

“Hiding.”

He sat up. Most of the tables and chairs were missing and he could only assume they had been tidied inside.

“Why?”

“Because Scott apparently doesn’t know his own strength. Or how to play baseball.”

John’s eyes widened. “What?”

Grandma pointed up at Five’s giant dorsal fin.

The very top of it was bent over to one side.

“How on Earth…?”

“I would think it was the cahelium Virgil worked into your brother’s cane. Virgil says he’ll have it fixed within the half hour.”

John stared at her. Five had rammed ships in the past with barely a dent.

His grandmother smiled and patted his leg. “All will be well, dear. Don’t you worry.” She rose from her chair, turned and folded it, heading towards the hatch obviously go inside. “Don’t stay out too long.”

The wind tousled John’s hair as he stared up at the damage to his ‘bird.

He had no words.

-o-o-o-

Next

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Scott Tracy #Gordon Tracy #John Tracy #Virgil Tracy #Alan Tracy #Grandma Tracy #Sally Tracy #where there be dragons au #an attempt at Steampunk

[themonotonysyndrome]

Chaos Horizon

Part 6 of the ‘Successors of the Future’ is out! Man, next week is already the new year... what a year this has been! Anyway, I don’t have a lot of things to say today so let’s get right to it! Oh, and have a happy holiday everyone!! 

Let us never forget that this whole series begin because of the amazing @tri3tri and her equally amazing fics and galaxy brain. If you haven’t check out her blog yet, then please do! I’m such a sucker for family drama and yandere characters and her blog continues to feed me whenever work stresses me out. 

-

A year has passed in Twisted Wonderland. More importantly, for the students in Night Raven College. 

Renata has learned quite a few important things just this one, short year. Yes, she needed allies for the time when her father finally discover her presence here in Night Raven College, but she never expected to honestly care and dare she admits it, love Hoyle and Rex. 

They were nothing like the friends she made in her old school back at the other world. She noticed their true personalities underneath the surface with each passing days. Underneath his sarcasm, gung-ho attitude and sly tongue, Hoyle Trappola is someone who cares deeply for those who managed to see through him; see past his defences. Renata felt blessed to be his close friend after a night the three of them shared in her bedroom, just playing games and watching movies on his laptop. In a rare window of honestly after Renata explains about her family life and circumstances, Hoyle repaid her honesty by admitting that he wish that he could be a better son to his Dad. Being a single father is tough and despite doing his best to shield him from the hardships and struggles, Hoyle overheard one night when his Dad is talking to his grandparents on the phone. How they urged him to consider marrying a woman so he could have someone to support him and Hoyle in the house. 

This was when he was still a child.

Renata didn’t offer sweet, comforting words. She knows that all Hoyle wanted was to vent, so he let him talk while tucking her head on his shoulder and pressed close to his side. She listens because that was Hoyle needed. 

Rex is the total opposite of Hoyle, yet just as bright and amazing in his own way. Underneath his serious demeanours, resting bitch face and volatile impulses, Rex Spade is actually an insightful and gentle-hearted boy who looks out for Renata and Hoyle even when it’s unwarranted. Though it’s quite easy for them to persuade him to join in their shenanigans with a few teasing words and in Hoyle’s case, a challenge. 

Never had Renata enjoyed her school life with friends like these! 

The other important thing - or realisation - that Renata discovered is that her Mama’s friends always kept her in their thoughts. 

Though Hoyle’s Dad gobsmacked expression when he brought her to his home for Winter’s Break was, uh, an experience. To put it very mildly. 

Renata originally planned to return home via the same spell that Headmaster Crowley used all those years ago to send Mama and her siblings back to her world during Winter’s Break. But while Hoyle, Rex and her were hanging out and playing cards in Heartslabyul’s main lounge, Hoyle brought up in mid conversation that his Dad offered their home to stay if she had no way to go during the holiday. 

“You’ve been talking about me to your Dad?” Renata had asked, folding her cards on the table. It sucks to learned that she’s terrible at poker and she pouts whenever Hoyle snickered at another bad hand on her. “Or have you been complaining about me?” 

Beside him, Rex stares down at the cards in his hands, hard. As if they hold the answers to the universe. Around them, the other Heartslabyul students gave their table a wide berth, though there were a few brave souls that greeted Renata when they came over to tease Hoyle. 

Renata happily introduces herself to them as a show of appreciation. 

“A bit of both. Mostly complaining when we had to clean the Hall of Mirrors.” Hoyle easily admits without a shame. He gathered all their cards into a deck and shuffled them. “Anyway, you down? My Dad seems to know your Mum so he offered our place to stay if you don’t have any plans.” 

Ace trappola, one of Mama’s best friend that she mentioned before. Renata would like to see just what kind of man he is. 

With a nod, Renata reply, “If it’s no trouble then, yeah. I’d like to hang out at your place for Winter’s Break. I’ve never been to the Rose Kingdom before.” 

And we’re now back to the present - where Renata and Ace are hanging out at his home; both waiting for Rex to show up with his Dad. 

It’s the last day before they had to returned to Night Raven College. 

“Have you met Rex’s Dad before, Hoyle?.” Renata asked, her eyes glued to the TV as she munches her bowl of cereals. They could hear his Dad walking about upstairs. 

“Have I met him before? Dude, he’s my godfather.” Hoyle scoffed, scarfing down the last bits of his own cereal before placing the empty bowl on the coffee table in front of them. A simple breakfast while watching the morning cartoons are the best. “Rex got his stick-up-the-ass attitude from his Dad.” 

“Ah. So he’s super strict?” Renata guessed. 

“More like serious, but he’s actually silly.” Hoyle amended. “He and my old man love to argue literally about anything and everything. They’re weird like that.” 

Renata just hums. She’ll get to meet him soon enough. Upstairs, his dad hollered at him to clean up so they could go out as soon as the Spade arrives. While the Trappola are getting ready, Renata gathered the dirty dishes from their breakfast and went to the kitchen to wash them. 

Mama always told her to be on her best behaviour if she’s under someone else’s house. 

Just as she puts the last bowl away, she heard heavy footsteps - heavier than Hoyle’s - coming from behind. 

“You really didn’t have to clean the dishes, you know. Usually Hoyle does it before we go out every Sunday.” Said Ace, leaning against the wall. 

“It’s not trouble at all, Mr. Trappola.” Renata assured him. She dry her arms by blowing hot air onto them before turning around to face her Mama’s best friend. “It’s nice that you finally look at me, instead of my horns.” 

“A-Ah, you noticed that?” Ace stammers, abashed that he wasn’t as subtle as he thought. 

“It’s cool, Mr. Trappola. I get that a lot at school too.” Renata admits easily. She’s gotten annoyed at him tip-toeing around ever since Hoyle introduces her. It was obvious that he has questions; it just that he doesn’t know how to ask them. 

Scrambling to salvage the situations, Ace took a moment to exhale harshly before he decides to be his honest self. “It was rude of me, yeah? We all didn’t know what to think when your mother just... disappeared one day and then suddenly, my kid brought back her own kid who just so happen to look like the King of the Valley of Thorns...” He trailed off and then he regards Renata with a severe expression. “What happened your mother, Renata-chan?” 

“It’s a long story, Mr. Trappola.” Renata said instead, smiling ruefully. “And I don’t want to ruin our day. Can I tell you and everyone what happened to Mama and us later tonight?” 

“Sure, kiddo... Is it alright for me to called you that?” 

“Mm-hmm! So what are we doing today, Me. Trappola?” 

It was nice to see the ice chip away from Ace little by little, now that the man sees past her appearance. While waiting for the Spade to arrive, Renata had a lot of fun chatting and laughing with Hoyle and his Dad, now that there’s no awkwardness lingering between them. Ace didn’t waste any time telling the teenagers all the trouble her Mama and him got into at Night Raven College and hearing the life that Mama had before Father kidnapped her was a blessing to hear. 

Judging from Ace’s story, it sounded like her Mama had a lot of people who truly loves her. It’s good to hear it. 

The buzzing of the doorbell interrupted Ace mid ranting how it was Deuce who often got them all in trouble - not him! - and MC never seem to realised that and no one back him up. His reminiscent were put on hold when Hoyle went up to usher the Spades in. 

Deuce Spade immediately blanked out, mouth slack-jawed the moment Renata waves hello to him. He looks as if he just saw a ghost. 

“Yeah, I know how it looks like.” Ace interjects when Deuce couldn’t stop spluttering and stammering, his eyes kept switching to Ace and then at Renata...and then back to his best friend. Ace just clap his shoulders in a comforting manner. Meanwhile, Rex ducked underneath the two men to scurried over where Hoyle and Ace are seated. He squeezes himself in between them to show them the new café that just open up in the Rose Kingdom through his phone. 

Once Ace managed to stressed out to Deuce that Renata will explain hers and MC’s story later in the evening, they all head out to town. 

“You said that you’ve never been to the Rose Kingdom before, Renata?” Rex asked out loud for the others’ benefit. The town nearby to the Trappola house is bustling with life today. “Then there’s so many things you gotta check out! Do you like desserts? What kind of desserts do you like? Have you ever tried ice-cream cake before?” 

“Easy there, Rex. You’re going to overwhelm the poor girl.” Deuce lightly scolded his son. His eyes linger a little too long at Renata before he caught himself and jerk away. “A-Anyway, how about we all walk around first and see what catches Renata-chan’s attention.” 

“Sounds like a plan, Mr. Spade!” Renata internally wondered if all of Mama’s friends would react this way when she introduces herself to them. 

That entire day, the Spade and Trappola played the perfect hosts to her. As they brought her to one shops after the other, chill out at the park after lunch and regale how the Queen of Hearts used to govern her kingdom, Renata found herself comparing the Country of Thorns to the Rose Kingdoms with every little things that she saw. Everything is so bright and... open here. The sun is shining down on them and everywhere they go, humans occupied the land but Renata did notice a few beastmen going about with their lives. It was nice to truly witness the world outside of Night Raven College and the Valley of Thorns. 

Hoyle and Rex made sure they kept close to Renata, shielding her with their bodies when strangers stare at her a little too long for their liking and would usher her into a shop or café to distract her from their curious stares. They weren’t subtle about it, but she is touched that they care about her that much. 

Renata is beginning to understand why Mama always talk so fondly about their Dads. 

After dinner, everyone returned to the Trappola’s house so Renata could finally explain herself. The living room is packed full and it reminded Renata of her siblings and Mama crowding in front of the TV to watch a movie. 

“Did Mama ever told you guys that while she was at Night Raven College, she met Father at night?” 

“Father... so your... Dad... really is...” Ace began, but unsure how to even continue but Renata save him the trouble with a nod. 

“Malleus Draconia. Mama said he’s a pretty big deal during his time at the school, being one of the top 5 strongest Magician in this world and all...” 

Hoyle scoffed. “Understatement, Renata. He’s the strongest Magician in all of Twisted Wonderland now. The number 1.” He explains. 

Well. Renata wonders how her little sister would react to this when she tells her later. 

Renata then continue on with the story. “Mama explained that they were friends and that in the beginning, everything was fine. But in the end, their story completely went off the train tracks.” 

And so, for the rest of the evening, Renata did her best to explain what had happened to Mama as honest as possible. They love Mama and so they deserve the truth. 

She told them everything that Mama had told her and her siblings. Of Mama’s friendship with Malleus Draconia and how what looked like a happy ending turned horribly wrong when her Father was consumed with the horror that one day he would outlive his wife and one and only dear friend. His intense love, possessiveness and obsession with her and their children blinded him to everything else - to the point that he kept their Mama and them in a gilded cage. 

Renata kept her dislike over Bellatrix to herself when she explains how they managed to escape from the castle on the eve of her Father’s second wedding. In the end, it was thanks to Headmaster Crowley that they could live freely in the other world. 

Until the Ebony Carriage came to pick her up and now, here they are.

Renata watches her audience did their best absorb the information overload.

“I never thought...” Ace muttered, distressed. His bit his lower lip, thinking hard. “I never thought that Malleus Draconia had MC all along... what a fucked up situation!” 

Deuce is troubled as well. “Poor Prefect... to think the Malleus Draconia fell in love with her... No wonder we couldn’t find her!” 

Beside him, Rex nods furiously while Hoyle is already growing bored of this conversation. “It sucks, but it sounds like your Mum is pretty badass for a magicless human. I mean, being able to escape from the most powerful Magician ever in Twisted Wonderland? The King of all dark Fae? Kudos to her.” Hoyle interjects. “So, what’s gonna happen now? You said that your Dad is crazy possessive over you guys, so I very much doubt it if he’s not looking for you guys. Even until now.” 

Finally! They’re getting to the good parts. 

And so with a curious smile, Renata asks, “Funny that you mentioned that. Do you guy know what Sebek Zigvolt is up to these days?” 

-

Night Raven College’s Entrance Ceremony is always a big event on this island every year. 

He was one of the main characters last year - of the many that was addressed by the Mirror of Darkness - but as a Second Year student, he’s standing among the rest of the older Savanaclaw students now. Scenting the newly sorted First Year cubs and waiting for the whole thing to wrap up already. 

At the centre of the chamber, the headmaster continues to called out names to step forward and face the Mirror of Darkness. 

Amber Leech, Aeacus Shroud, Felix Felmier... the ceremony goes on. 

“Psst! Bakari!” A voice suddenly whisper. 

Bakari turn his head to the side and there’s Renata with her ceremony robes’ hood up, beaming at him. She’s standing away from her Diasomnia mates, a good space between her and the crowd at the back that no one seems to pay her any attention. 

Bakari slips away from the rest of the Savanaclaw students in favour of walking towards her. 

“How’s the fresh meats?” Was the first thing that Renata asked him.

“Some of them look promising.” Bakari admits. “More predators than preys so far.” 

“Oooh, Savanaclaw’s hierarchy is so harsh.” Renata reply a bit absentmindedly. Bakari notices that her green eyes are scanning the room and the crowds around them. Looking for someone. Something unpleasant churns in his stomach but he resolutely ignores it. “Are you gunning for the Dorm Leader’s position?” She wondered.  

Bakari scoffed, his tail flicking irritably just at the mere thought. Unlike his Dad, he has no lofty ambitions to secure a powerful position for himself. “Savanaclaw is governed by the laws of the strong eating the weak. You have to be the strongest in order to be the Dorm Leader and I have better things to do than watching over my dorm members.” 

Like figuring out how to appease his Dad after he told him to stay away from the lizard bastard’s whelp during Winter’s Break. Regardless of her surname. 

As if he’s going to do that though. He wants to fully unravel the mysteries of Renata MC/S. For the time being, she’s the most interesting creature in Night Raven College. 

“Sounds tough.” Renata murmurs. “Well, it’s a good thing that you don’t want to be a Dorm Leader! Otherwise your workload would take you away from me.” 

Bakari just hums. Already gotten used to her offhanded flirting. 

The two of them watch in the background as the group of First Year students gradually thinned out. The headmaster’s loud voice carried to the back of the chamber. 

“... Sherrie MC/S, please step forward!” 

Murmurs erupted when said student pulled down her hood, a pair of black horns is clear for all to see. 

Bakari glance to his side to see Renata beaming. “You were looking for your sister?” 

“Something like that! It’s so nice when everything is coming together, don’t you think?” Renata chuckles, pleased with herself for some odd reason. It just made Bakari more and more intrigue. 

And the uncomfortable feeling within him vanish just like that. 

“...Octavinelle!” 

The murmurs now turn into confused whispers and fingers are pointing as they all watch Renata’s little sister melded into the crowd of new Octavinelle students. Some of the students nearby even glance behind to stare at Renata and when she cocked an eyebrow at them, they quickly turn away. 

“Octavinelle? Did the Mirror made a mistake?”

“I thought only merfolks are sorted into Octavinelle.” 

“Those horns looks just like her’s. There’s no way she’s a merfolk!”

“Maybe her magic is not as strong to be sorted to Diasomnia?”

The students of Night Raven College sure love to gossip, Renata couldn’t help but internally mused. Even worse than those back in her old school. 

“Guess you’re planning to catch up with her after the ceremony?” Bakari assumed, casting a sideway glance to gauge her expressions. 

“I’ll meet up with her tomorrow, after she settles in for the night.” Renata answered. “There’s no need to rush. We have lots of time to prepare for the future.” 

-

Ok! I think I did ok with this oneshot. Editing, was as usual, a bit tedious but the power of Miku’s songs prevail and I manage to push this through! Hope you guys have a wonderful holiday. 

#fanfic #twisted wonderland #ace trappola #deuce spade #Draconia Family series #Second Wive AU #tri3tri

[ask-iamnotanalicorn]

Previous: The Flim Flam Timeline

The Wasteland Timeline:

This is the story of when Equestria fell.

And this it the story of when Equestria rose again.

The trials began as they always do: with the return of Nightmare Moon. The celestial sisters clashed, and Celestia fell. Heedless of the struggle it would be to keep the Sun set with its alicorn princess banished inside it, Nightmare Moon did just that, determined that her traitorous sister experience Nightmare’s punishment.

Nightmare’s reign of Equestria was strained, but Equestria could have borne it. But within a year, the capital was attacked by the Changelings, desperate to replenish their stores of pony love that had been stymied by the nation’s state of fear and uncertainty. Nightmare Moon was barely managing to repel the threat when the Crystal Empire returned, and King Sombra began to march on her northern borders. With attacks from within and attacks from without, a distrusted leader on the throne, and economic failure rippling across the country as readily as the shifting front lines, the ponies of Equestria were more torn than ever.

So of course that’s when Discord escaped.

The upside of Discord’s release was that it temporarily stopped the fighting. Even King Sombra was smart enough to withdraw in the face of the mad draconequus on a quest of vengeance against all ponies. Queen Chrysalis and Queen Nightmare Moon (who had absconded herself at first sign of Discord’s escape, using every possible trick to keep him from finding her) formed a temporary peace treaty in order to seek a solution - for a world ruled by Discord was useless to all of them. (Granted, the Changelings could withdraw to their protected realm, but Chrysalis had tasted power and wasn’t about to let Discord have it all. She was quite looking forward to stabbing Nightmare Moon in the back afterwards.)

Their solution: a magical contract with the long-imprisoned centaur, Tirek. Tirek was more than happy to oblige. He single-handedly decimated Sombra’s troops, gorging himself on the magic of Crystal Empire and Equestrian ponies alike. It is possible that, if Discord hadn’t come to see what all the fuss was about himself, Tirek would have kept right on gorging to the very limit of the contract that bound him.

When the two titans clashed, the battle that ensued sundered hundreds of miles of landscape. Canterlot bore the greatest brunt; the castle collapsed completely from its cliffside home, the city little more than ruins. Discord’s attacks spread wildly unpredictable waves of chaos magic across much of Equestria. And when at long last Tirek had defeated him and sucked him dry, the lingering effects of that chaos magic stayed rooted in the ground like weeds.

It seemed, for the briefest moment, as if the worst problem was over. But of course, a power-maddened Tirek is a worse threat - because at least Discord doesn’t go out of his way to destroy everything in sight. Drunk on chaos magic, Tirek easily broke the tenuous contract with the queens and set across the landscape, draining ponies by the thousands and carving swaths through the countryside for the sheer wicked joy of destruction. His power was even mighty enough to destroy the changeling hive, overpowering its magical protections.

There was no choice - the two remaining rulers of any species in the land had to either defeat their own creation or face the loss of all they held dear. Nightmare Moon called upon the power of the Moon itself, drawing it nearer to Equestria in a desperate gambit. Tidal waves rocked Equestria’s coastlines, submerging Manehattan and other coastal cities entirely, and the alicorn of the night shone with deadly moonlit radiance as she bombarded Tirek with the full brunt of her power. But even Nightmare Moon at the height of her power was not strong enough to stop Tirek at the height of his, and he struck her down against the surface of the Moon itself. Some of the dislodged chunks rained down on the world, damaging more of not only Equestria, but many other countries on that side of the planet.

Tirek seemed to have won; all he had left to deal with was one small, angry changeling queen. An assured victory, no doubt.

He could not have known how wrong he was. For a changeling might give its magic willingly to a spell like Tirek’s with no ill effects, but an unwilling changeling queen will not be robbed of her power easily. As Tirek’s powers drain magic, so changeling powers drain love - and no one in all the world had such self-love as Tirek. The cycle of Tirek draining her magic and Chrysalis draining his became a self-consuming spell spiral that ultimately imploded upon itself, taking both creatures with it.

The resulting explosion could be heard across the celestial sea. For a few moments, there was something like an artificial sun on the horizon - a sun that had set directly on Equestria.

Then came the silence. After three years of war, devastation, and disasters unlike any the world had ever seen, there was silence.

And as the silence stretched, the survivors stirred.

Earth ponies, pegasi, unicorns, crystal ponies, and zebras; yaks, cows, goats, donkeys, and buffalo; gryphons, dragons, hippogryphs, minotaurs, and changelings: in spite of everything, many had survived. They rose from their hiding places to find an Equestria and Crystal Empire in ruins. No major cities still stood; borders and coastlines were unrecognizable. Large swaths of land once green and lush were barren and blasted, and spots of chaos magic lay in wait for creatures unwise enough to enter them unprotected. The moon hung wrecked in a dark sky, shining in shattered glory down on the devastation that had been the once-rich land of Equestria.

But the great destroyers were gone. None of the titans and tyrants who had brought this destruction down on the country remained. The usual monsters hardly seemed a threat anymore; those who had survived thus far had learned to cope with far worse. They could build new settlements, make new ways of life, come together or fall apart on their own merits.

And the most hopeful sign of all came the next day. The first actual day since Nightmare Moon returned and the Thousand Days of Woe began:

The Sun - weak and red in the dust-filled sky - slowly rose over the horizon.

The Princess of the Sun had not returned yet; perhaps she is still trapped by her sister’s spell. Perhaps another way of escape is being laid. But the light fills the ponies’ hearts with hope.

The Equestria they knew is gone. But the New Equestria has a future.

____

Sunday, Aug.10, 4 A.C.

Dear Journal,

It’s really strange dating things this way; but with everything that’s happened, most folks agree it’ll be easier to date our calendars starting with the fall of Princess Celestia. ‘After Celestia’ sounds so grim, though; kinda hope we change it. Maybe when the Princess returns... we’re praying she does.

Anyway, I still can’t believe we found a whole stock of blank paper in the storerooms! We’re saving most of it for bartering, but Mom thinks it’s smart for one of us to make notes for posterity, so it looks like I get to keep you. I’ll try to be short to save space, but it just feels so good to write again!

The move into the Canterlot ruins ruins is going pretty well. A few other families joined us after our last trip to Apple Fort, and we’ve shored up our defenses in case the air pirates make another flyby. Pop and I negotiated a deal with the Apples - food in exchange for books. A few of the unicorns know replication spells and are using some of the paper to make copies of really important texts so we don’t lose valuable knowledge to an accident. It still blows my mind how much we’ve lost in... was life really normal only a few years ago? It feels like another lifetime that I was in this very city, talking to the Princess, sitting at a normal cafe... eating lunch with Cam and Press...

I don’t want to forget them. Camera Shy and Pressing Matters, my best friends. Maybe they’re still out there somewhere. We run into old friends every now and then - my old traveling salespony gig has come in handy, actually! I’ve found a bunch of people who used to be clients, it really helps with forming trade and peace treaties with other groups. So it could happen. Please, Prince, keep them safe wherever they are.

I’m really blessed, though. I have to remember that. I have Mom and Pop and Black and Per and Chewie - although I’m still not used to Chewie flying and talking now. She’s such a character. Lots of ponies are missing family - so are we, we haven’t been able to find most of the extended family, but Pop got word from Aunt Pitter that she and my cousin Light Drizzle are out west somewhere, and Pitch Apple is down at Apple Fort, thank the King.

And we could be worse! We made friends with a tinkerer named Steam Punk, he made me a new wing that works as good as my old one! (Not a HUGE bar to cross, but it’s still really impressive!) I’m talking him into working with me to start a production house that can make and sell them affordably to other handicapped pegasi. And Mom got her flight back thanks to a gem Black and some other mages crafted. I think she still misses her diving mark, but she’s so brave and optimistic, it really inspires everyone. I wish we could do something for Pop’s horn, but he’s finding other ways to help out. Per is... well, I guess if you’re going to get turned into a pony-dragon, you’d want to be as cheerful about it as Per. Who knows, maybe she’ll still get a cutie mark someday! And Black is fully aware that he looks pretty boss with an eyepatch, the dork. 

There’s rumors that Princess Cadance might be alive and organizing the crystal ponies up North; lots of ponies are heading that way, but I think our group will stay here. There’s a lot of resources in the Canterlot ruins and in the castle, although Black leads the expeditions into the castle because of safety issues. I never knew he was so good at exploration and such; guess there were a few skills he was holding out on us over the years, but turns out he was working for the Princess before! What in Equus, I gave him such an earful for being all secretive about being my bodyguard or whatever. 

I’m running out of page, so I’ll wrap up today. We’re holding a worship service later, Pop and Parson Brown are setting it up. We want to keep focusing on what we have to be thankful for. We are GOING to get through this. The King, the Prince, and the Advocate have not abandoned us, and we have each other. 

~Salespitch

----

Fun Facts About The Wasteland Timeline:

- This was my favorite timeline to draw =D I HAD to get some steampunk stuff in there, although there are definitely Mad Max vibes. The convenient thing about this timeline is that it was a literal blank slate, so I could really get creative with it! I feel like this would make a neat bookmark, what do ya’ll think?

- I tried to reference all the major villains in the picture. Extra shoutout to ReversalMushroom, the patron who sponsored this Alternate Timeline Special, for giving me the ideas for the changeling goo and Tirek’s hoofprints, which were added in during the coloring phase. I think they round it out quite nicely!

- The random bit of Candy Forest over the crevice there is one of the pockets left behind by Discord’s chaos magic going wild. Most ponies avoid it because here’s WEIRD stuff in there, and ponies who go in there usually come out a little weirder themselves. 

- Black lost his eye and half his sunglasses in a fight with some Changelings. He gets on quite well with only one eye, though, and he insists his sunglass-lens eyepatch is going to be the height of eyepatch fashion. (He DOES have a sense of humor in case anyone doubted it. ;) ) Black taught everyone basic survival techniques and does most of the more dangerous tasks.

- Sales lost his wing during Tirek’s rampage; he tried to distract Tirek, but they didn’t have time to make the plan from the Tirek timeline, so he got swatted pretty quickly. On the upside, Tirek lost sight of him and didn’t get his magic. Sales can fly about as well now with his new steampunk wing, which combines technology and magic to mimic low-level pegasus flight (which was where he was at anyway, so he made a great first test subject!) Sales’ main job is  negotiating peaceful trades with other groups.

- Sales Patter (Dad) lost his horn while pushing his wife out of the way of some falling rubble. He insists he was only mediocre at magic anyway, and he doesn’t need a horn to do business! He does miss it, though. He helps their new community with allocating resources.

- Pitch Forward (Mom) lost her magic and cutie mark to Tirek’s onslaught. The gem in her coat simulates flight for her, although not quite at the level she was before. She and Sales joke about how he can almost beat her in a race now. She helps with the kids in their small community and teaches flying techniques to pegasi.

- Pitch Perfect got hit with a random blast of Discord magic that turned her half dragon. It took a little getting used to, but she honestly thinks it is super neat. She’s pretty good at sniffing out gems now, which (when she isn’t eating them) helps with family finances. Her friends Codebreak and Castle Crasher are part of their little community, and the three are constantly getting into trouble (which most everyone silently thinks of as a nice bit of familiarity.)

- Chewie ALSO got Discord’d; she has fairy wings now and she can talk. Chewie still likes Sales the best and hovers around him chattering like Navi half the time. The other half of the time she forgets she has wings and just hops around exploring. At this point she’s become less like a pet and more like another tiny sister, to Per’s delight and everyone else’s raised anxiety levels. She is VERY aware of her surroundings and alerts the group to intruders and strangers. She really misses computer games.

- Princess Celestia will eventually return, although by that time I feel that the various groups gathering together will have formed something like a decent society again. It remains to be seen if they’ll go back to a monarchy, create a government of connected micronations, or turn into something like the United States.

- And yes, Camera Shy, Pressing Matters, and Press’s husband Curler are all alive. They’ll meet up someday!

---

A/N: Thank you all for joining me on this journey through time and space to explore the seven MLP timelines and where Sales & Co might have ended up in them! I hope you enjoyed it; I had a good bit of fun coming up with the different scenarios, it was a great brain exercise. =D Thank you again to all my Patrons, and to ReversalMushroom for sponsoring this particular special! There will be a final post next week of all the pictures together, with links back to their storyline posts.

I also want to thank you for bearing with me as the regular updates continue to be on hiatus. This has been a rough and strange year for all of us, and I hope you all are safe and healthy and know that you are loved. Jesus has really been with me through this year, and even tonight as I write this; there are things I struggle with, but I know that they do not define my value, HE does. =) And I, like Sales, want to count my blessings, the biggest one (aside from my faith in God) being that I have family around me who love me and care for me. I’m very much looking forward to Christmas! =D  

Merry Christmas! May your Christmas and New Year contain joy and peace, and may Christ Jesus rest His hands on you and draw your heart to His. In Jesus’ Name, amen.

~River Babble

#mlp ask blog #pony ask blog #tirek #sombra #nightmare moon #Queen Chrysalis #mlp discord #IANAA #Salespitch

[justsomeoneunordinary]

Dark Fic Recs

@rhodee asked me for some dark fic recs and since this is one of my favorite tropes, I know quite some. I wanna make clear from the beginning that those are dark fics. Means stories with fucked up/morally dubious/voilent content. And not salty “Team Cap was mean to me, so I become evil now” kind of fics. If you’re interested in the latter, I am the wrong person to ask.

Some of them are much darker than the others, but you should read for each one carefully the tags and/or the Author’s Note, since some have special twists in the end that aren’t mentioned in the tags.

Basically: know your limits.

Dark!Tony fics (my personal preference)

Faster, Colder, Sharper by Penned (WinterIron)

Tony is kidnapped by Hydra. When the team gets him back, he has changed far more than they suspect. More than even the surface shows.

Bucky though, he notices it all.  

A de-aged Tony fic with Bucky as a caretaker... of sorts.

Radioactive by Valmasy (WinterIron, Series)

The pain is all-encompassing. It’s all he can think about. It’s all he feels. It’s all he breathes. It’s all he lives. Like a barbed net, its sharpness swallows him whole, over and over and over. Tony’s mind tries to hide, tries to save itself, but the pain finds him even then. It burns away at his resistance until all he is crumbles, until he’s nothing but ash and dust.

Attack dog by salytierra (Stony)

Steve doesn't swim in self-delusion. He knows that he is sick and that his owner is even worse. He is aware of it every time he rips some nameless guy’s throat out and feels the crunch of bones under his fingers. He is aware of it every time the rush of adrenaline at seeing life slip away from a stranger’s eyes hits him and gets him bothered and panting in ways that have nothing to do with physical exhaustion.

But it  feels so good…

His owner’s approach is less personal. His shots fall clean and take out several foes at a time, his figure elegant and so graceful he looks like a god among savages. He is power incarnated, cold and burning like a sun at the same time… and Steve tries not to focus on him when they are fighting together, least his knees go weak and his technique falters. It’s fine though. They will go home afterwards and his owner will fuck him on the hard floor, with most of their gear still on and a vicious grip in his hair.

Anatomy of a Moral Man by ShyOwl (Stony, WIP)

At a young age Tony understood he was not meant to be a hero and the world, he believes, is far better for it. With his rule now set in stone, his life is finally settling down. That is until something was found buried underneath the ice.

Tony may not be a hero but that did not stop him from falling in love with one.

In Restless Dreams by charocalwinter (WinterIron, WIP)

When he discovers what he believes to be the truth about his parents’ recent deaths, a powerful and morally ambiguous Tony Stark sets out to get his revenge on Steve Rogers. How does Bucky Barnes fit into this feud and why isn't anybody giving him a pair of socks?

“It isn’t often that Tony Stark finds himself unsure of anything, but this situation has him doubting his every thought, his every move … with Rogers comes James, and that boy is muddling Tony’s mind.” ~ interrupted excerpt from ch 4.

A Pound of Flesh by jellybeanforest (Stony)

To save Bucky, Steve volunteers to work off his debt to the Carbonell crime family. Unfortunately, he is unsuited for the role of enforcer, unable to beat and murder those in the same position as Bucky. He is brought before the mob boss, Tony Stark, who demands his pound of flesh in the wake of Steve’s failure. But upon seeing the attractive blond, Tony proposes alternative employment, one that won’t require him to harm others: Becoming his kept man.

“This isn’t an offer I make often, so you should be flattered – count yourself lucky, even – that I am extending you this rare opportunity.”

“To be raped repeatedly?”

“To have a second chance to work off your debts after you failed so spectacularly the first time. But I don’t have to. I could just use these knives I’ve brought along, carve up that pretty face of yours like a Thankgiving turkey, which would be a shame, really. Then I suppose I’d have to pay a visit to your little friend. This entire exercise has been a waste of my valuable time… perhaps I’ll take an arm for my trouble,” he muses. “So, tell me, Rogers, is Barnes right- or left-handed?”

It’s an offer Steve can’t refuse.

Take Away (everything I am) by salytierra (WinterIron)

“Everyone I kill deserves to die.”

“True. But try to explain that to Captain Justice and Faith.” He takes a gulp of the scotch right out of the bottle and flops down on Tony’s lap, straddling his hips. “He cares too much. You and I? – We do what needs to be done.”

Tony circles his waist with both arms and pulls him closer, opening his mouth when Barnes offers him the bottle and swallowing the bitter liquid dry.

“Nobody ever believed I was able to care. So why should I?”

“Coming from somebody who is expected and probably should care more but doesn’t really give a fuck? – I’ll drink to that.”

Operant Conditioning by dracusfyre (WinterIron, Series)

In which Tony is HYDRA and Bucky’s handler.

in another country (people die) by pprfaith (FrostIron)

“The world is not your playground, Stark!” Fury yells at him one time, after he maybe brings down a building or two and Tony just laughs because, seriously, yes it is. 

on the bleeding edge by esama (Pepperony, WIP, abandoned (still good tho))

Tony Stark goes back in time and becomes a super villain. 

Almost Perfect by One and Five Nines (Obani) (Stony, Comic)

A powerful enemy invades from an alternate reality, but the only thing he really seems interested in is Steve Rogers

Eventually by One and Five Nines (Obani) (Stony, Comic, WIP)

Tony is godking of the wasteland. Steve is not.

Victim!Tony fics

Deliver Us by romanoff (FrostIron)

Loki comes back for revenge. Tony Stark is his captive.

“Why,” he tries, voice failing “do you want me.” He coughs into the ash.

“A king needs an advisor. A king needs concubines. A conquering king must learn the ways of the natives or risk expulsion,” he wipes blood from the sceptre with the end of his coat “and I’m rather fond of you, I think. Even in the face of death you use your wit, you charm with your tongue. It reminds me of myself, maybe, one or two millennia ago.”

Terms & Conditions by Penned (WinterIron)

Tony Stark is desperate and trusts too easily. Bucky Barnes takes advantage of that.

A mob AU with no powers, featuring a very dark, very off-kilter Bucky.

(reverse) Kidnapping by AngeNoir (WinterIron)

Tony Stark is wallowing. He has a right to - he's just finished the funeral preparations for his parents in New York. He didn't expect them to live forever, but still...

And then he falls asleep from his bender.

And wakes up in a nightmare.

(Is it a nightmare?)

Anything (and Everything) - remix by Penned (WinterIron)

The Soldier will do anything to make Tony happy, with or without his explicit consent.

Heavily inspired by Shi_Toyu's  IronWinter Holiday Exchange fic "Anything." This is a much darker version of that story.

like flowers soaked in monochrome by deathsweetqueen (Stony)

Steve Rogers woke up to a world where everyone he loved and knew had forged on without him. But this world, it's nothing like he's used. It wants something brutal from him, something unforgiving. There are so many compromises to make. There are too many monsters behind kind smiles.

But if it means keeping Tony safe, if it means protecting him, he's willing to do whatever it takes.

He can't be soft.

After all, the weak are meat; the strong do eat.

Sins of Omission by Kiyaar (Stony, WIP (tbh I still haven’t started reading this story, but the tags and summary sound perfect!))

A Post-Civil War, Pre-Secret Invasion AU where Steve is dead, Tony's a mess, and everything sucks.

In which Tony deals poorly with Steve's death, falls off the wagon, sees ghosts, and misses a lot.

Oh, and the Skrulls are about to invade.

That’s it. Read all warnings carefully and enjoy!

#fic recs #winteriron #buckytony #stony #stevetony #frostiron #lokitony #pepperony #only one pepperony tho :( #dark fics

[hayjeon]

Union (ft. Taehyung) | part 2

→ arrangedmarriage!au between werewolf!taehyung and wolfhunter!reader → (2.4k) part 1 | 02 | tbd

a/n: changing this series’ name to union instead of Scream if you want to! 

during quarantine, i’ll do my best to update more often! this is from a request I got in my inbox, so feel free to remind me of some au’s i have in my masterlist that you enjoyed and would like to see more of! (pls fyi that some stories in my ml have been discontinued and have been marked as such, so pls don’t request those!) 

The next morning you wake up to an empty bed. The covers have been strewn off and there’s a clear dent in the mattress where he’d slept. Contrary to him, you’d spent the night tossing and turning, unable to sleep with the thought of spending eternity with him, and had only gotten a few hours when the sun begin to rise. 

You sigh, casting off the covers of yourself as you call for a maid and some proper clothing, this time. “And when I’m finished dressing, have the closets stocked with proper dresses and underskirts. Get rid of all those flimsy slips and lingerie.” 

Her eyes widen at that, but she doesn’t question you and nods. “Would you like me to pack some of them into your luggage however, Your Highness?” 

You turn and frown. “My luggage?” 

She nods, “Have you not read the letter I placed on your nightstand, Your Highness? The Emperor of the Nightlands is holding a wedding in a week. The Dowager King and Queen have arranged for you and the King to attend the wedding, and to make it promptly, both you and the King must leave tonight.” 

Of course. Your parents were too weak and old to make the trip on their own for a week. It was your duty to attend. You’d probably missed the envelope in the craze of the wedding details. You close your eyes as the tears of frustration threaten to come back up. 

“No, just pack my regular dresses and my essentials. I’ll do the rest myself.” 

“Yes, your highness.” She continues to help you do your hair. “You can just call me y/n,” you say, but she just gives you a smile and continues to work in silence.

“Does he know?” 

She meets your eyes in the mirror. “The King?” 

At your nod, she gives a tight-lipped smile, as she threads more pins into your hair. “Yes, your highness. He woke up in the early morning to prepare the horses and the details of the boat that will take you both to your destination. Isn’t that so sweet?” 

You don’t answer her. Sweet? You had to make sure to see the carriage and the boat for yourself. There was only one condition that you would board either of those two things. If he and you had separate quarters. 

“I thought I was clear that I wanted separate quarters,” you hiss at him so only he can hear. You place a hand on his arm to make it look like nice banter to the maids and other guards who were watching the both of you. 

He gives you a blank stare, leaning in to whisper in your ear. “I tried my best, your majesty, but this is the royal carriage that your parents had insisted on. Now laugh as if I said something funny.” 

You mutter, “as if,” but you still throw your head back and hide your fake smile behind a hand as you let out a giggle loud enough for your surrounding courts to hear. He matches the sentiment with a lop-sided grin that doesn’t match the dark look in his eyes. 

He holds a hand out to you. “Shall we, my queen?” 

You turn and wave to the court, the maids, the guards, and all the townspeople who’d gathered to see you both off onto your first event as their King and Queen. You turn back to Taehyung and place your hand in his, “Of course, my King.” 

He helps you up the steps into the waiting carriage, and you take a seat as Taehyung closes the doors behind you both and gives a final farewell to the crowd. He joins you in the carriage across from you, and you cross your arms, now in the privacy of the curtain-drawn carriage. 

“How long is this journey? Your Kingdom is closeby.”

He draws the curtains a bit and stares outside. “4 days by boat, and 3 days by carriage when we arrive.” 

Your eyes widen. “An entire week?!” 

He turns to you, the curtains flicking back closed. Crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat, he settles his gaze on you. “Why, princess, have you not traveled by boat for that long? Are you afraid?”

When you don’t respond, he leans forward with his elbows on his knees, crowding your space. “Are you scared of what lies beyond the borders of your perfect little country? Your hunters may have kept your lands nice and tidy until now, but beyond this place, lies the reality. Wolves, for instance. And vampires, witches, sirens, pirates,” he sneers, his lips twitching up mischievously at the look of horror on your face, “they all exist. And they hate hunters.” 

You press your lips together, trying not to stutter. “I have encountered a few of them in my training. Do you think my father would have appointed me as queen had I not been familiar with the other species that inhabit this world? I have read countless books and reports on these other species. I might know them better than you do.” 

Catching your bluff, he scoffs, leaning back again and cocking his head at you. The smile still remains, making you even more angry. “Do you think your books and tutors will save you when the sirens start ripping our boat to shreds? Or when the witches begin to tear you apart, piece by piece? Or when the vampires sneak into your bedroom at night to suck your blood until you’re dry? No,” he laughs, “experience, my dear princess, is what wins the battle.”

He stands, opening the carriage door and stepping out to join the coachman. He turns back, giving you a grin that reminds you of what he said last night. His voice dips low and drips with the double entendre of his words. “And I have plenty of it.” 

You shut the door in his face. 

The journey from your castle to your kingdom’s docks isn’t quick, as your kingdom had been built with your castle as its center, far away from any attack from sea or land. Thankfully, Taehyung continues to have a conversation with the coachman, and you’re able to catch up on the sleep that you’d missed the night before. 

You’re rudely awakened by the carriage coming to a complete stop, and you almost tumble out of your seat as you adjust your dress and peek out the curtain. You already see a crowd of people gathered at the dock, and a huge wooden boat awaiting you and the King. Gathering your wits, you take a deep breath, and step out of the carriage. 

Immediately, children run unabashedly up to you, jumping up and down at the opportunity to meet their Queen in person, and they hand you little trinkets and candy as they laugh and run around you. You see in the corner of your eye that Taehyung stands awkwardly off to the side, warily eyeing the villagers, and in turn, they give him suspicious glares. 

You sigh. You knew this would happen. People in the countryside were less happy about this merger between the hunters and the wolves, and were a bit old-fashioned in their ways of thinking. Of course they’d be less inclined to warm up to a wolf, much less the King. 

This was your duty. This was why you’d been married off. To unite the two species. You turn, plastering on a smile and holding out your hand to Taehyung. He meets your eyes confusedly, questioning your intentions. You just nod slightly and open your hand up to him, and he hesitantly takes a few steps towards you and the children, and places his larger hand in yours. 

When he approaches, some of the children warily step back, eyeing the Wolf King and his rugged looks. His features were sharp and intimidating, and most of your hunters weren’t used to that. You give your best smile and squat in front of one child who seems a bit scared, motioning for Taehyung to do the same. 

“Hello, whats your name?” You say smoothly, holding out your other hand to the child.

He’s tiny, probably no more than three or four years old. His cheeks are full, however, and his eyes are bright. It was probably his first time meeting anyone from royalty, and therefore anyone other than the hunter species. 

“I’m Jaehong!” He says excitedly, bouncing up and down. 

“Hello Jaehong, I’m y/n,” you say, and turning slightly to Taehyung, you say, “And this is Taehyung, my husband.” 

The little boy warily eyes Taehyung. He leans in to whisper loudly “My mommy says that wolves are scary creatures. Is that true?” 

You let out a little laugh, and you see how Taehyung shifts under the discomfort of not knowing what to do. It’s amusing, as the confident, cunning man becomes awkward and meek under the wary gazes of your townspeople and this three-year-old child. 

“No, Jaehong, that’s old-fashioned. Your mommy may have been told that by her parents a long time ago, but times have changed. This man is now the King, and he is a great person.” You take their hands, turning Taehyung’s large palm up and placing Jaehong’s little one in it. “See? He’s human, warm-blooded and soft like me.” 

Taehyung gives a small smile to the boy, and Jaehong carefully studies the way his hand fits in Taehyung’s before breaking out in to a wide smile. “Okay,” he says, “Nice wolf,” he steps forward and places his other hand on Taehyung’s cheek. 

The crowd gasps at the sight. Wolves were known to be aggressive and territorial in nature, and any wolf wouldn’t have taken it kindly to a hunter touching its face. But Taehyung just smiles, leaning into the touch and ruffles Jaehong’s hair. “Yes, I am a nice wolf,” he laughs, and the crowd visibly relaxes and murmurs break out. Some of the children re-emerge from behind their mothers and eye the two curiously, as you stand and wave to your townspeople. 

“Thank you, everyone, for coming. We will see you in a couple of weeks, as it takes one entire week to make the trip there alone. We wish you well!” 

The crowd waves and calls out their goodbyes as you and Taehyung board the ship. You notice that Taehyung gives Jaehong one last goofy smile and pat on the head before joining you onto the plank. He has an olive’s branch in his hair. 

The lack of separate quarters on the boat also gives you a headache, but you decide to not speak of it, and Taehyung seems to do the same. In fact, he seems a bit more quieter than usual, using his fork to push around the food on his plate as he stares at the olive branch that the boy had placed behind his ear. 

You glance at him. Was he upset over the interaction on the dock? That you’d forced him to be subjected to the touch of a hunter without his permission? You bit your lip, regretting what you did. You shouldn’t have touched him, shouldn’t have introduced him, and should have just let him deal with it on his own. Wolves were independent by nature, and only chose to depend on others when needed. 

Before you can say anything, Taehyung speaks up from across the table. 

“Thank you.” 

You gawk, almost choking on the spoonful of food you were chewing on. You gulp down some wine as Taehyung gives you a bored look.

“What?” You cough out, wincing at the scratch in your throat. 

“I said, thank you. For what happened back at the dock.” 

You frown at him. “Why?” You blurt out.

He just stares at his food. “I...didn’t know how to approach them. I can only imagine how they as your people feel about me. Their precious princess, married off to some wolf, the King of the species that had been known to terrorize and kill yours.” 

You soften. “You know that the feud between our species was a misunderstanding. There is no one to blame. Our people have also given your species reason to fear and hide. We are none the more innocent.”

He takes a sip of his wine, nodding thoughtfully. “Even then, I wouldn’t have been able to experience that without your help. I now see the merit behind this union.” 

“What do you mean? The reason for our marriage?” 

He nods, twirling the olive branch in his fingers. 

“I fought against it, you know. The merger. I did not think it would be possible, a union between our species. We were doomed to fight and wage war with each other from the beginning of time. I thought there would be no way to make this union work, much less convince our people to do the same, either.” 

He stops twirling the branch, and meets your gaze. “But seeing how you managed to get an entire town’s approval, it makes me think of the wisdom behind our father’s choices.” 

You set down your fork. “I believe that it is necessary.” 

He quirks a brow. “Necessary?” 

You nod, “It is our duty to unite our people. Our species would not survive if we did not unite. We’d continue hunting your species, and your species would continue killing us in retaliation. There would have been no end. Our father’s choices were diplomatic and wise, not thinking of themselves and the difficulties it would take to get there, but rather investing in a brighter future ahead of us. And we should be doing the same. It will always be our duty as King and Queen.” 

Taehyung’s gaze darkens at that a bit. “So this marriage is nothing but out of necessity, out of duty, for you? So that feat that you put on at the docks,” he stares down at his palm before bitterly staring back at you, “was all for show? For necessity and duty? How can you be so cold?” His voice turns icy at that, and you frown. 

“Is it not duty for you?” You snap back. “Don’t think that I am ignorant to what was going on in your Kingdom when you agreed to marry me. I know that in order to become King, you had to have some sort of advantage against your elder brother. Is that not the reason why you agreed to this? To marry a hunter, in order to take the throne? Don’t pretend like this is some selfless act of passion for you.” 

He stands, the chair scraping loudly. His jaw is set in an angry hardness, and you half expect for him to begin throwing insults or yelling at you, but he just gives you a hard glare before stalking off in the direction of your shared room. 

You curse when he slams the door. You’d planned to get there first, but now he’d ruined everything. 

#taehyung fics #bts fics #bts smut #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #fics #writing #drabbles #bts drabbles

[mellow-em]

Bedlam (Sam Drake)

PROLOGUE: ALL GONE 

The life she had built in only a year had disintegrated, and she was set on her stubborn mindset of finding her purpose away from Jackson. 

I DO NOT OWN ANY TLOU OR UNCHARTED CHARACTERS! ALL RIGHTS GO TO NAUGHTY DOG!

(This is a tlou x uncharted crossover. It’s set in tlou universe, but its a fic between an oc of mine, and Sam! I’m not sure how this is gonna turn out so please bear with me)

Chapter 1

_________________________________

Jackson, Wyoming

______________________

His face was illegible beyond compare, signifying my speculations were true. My recollection of the previous year had felt feverish now, as if I couldn’t graze my fingers on the memories we held between each of us.

“You’re fucking lying.”

Denial.

He lowers his head, only showing the textured black hair, that glistened with flecks of grey and white. His shameful stature made my fists clench beside me. If I didn’t know any better, I would collide them with his face; a face that held floods of imperfections already.

The pitiful man that stood before me couldn’t even relay a word out into the open. He remained mute, and shook his head at the ground.

I hadn’t realised my breath was held at my throat, creating a hoarse sensation that began choking me. I was drowning in the searing atmosphere around the both of us, as it was anything but tranquil.

Regardless of my state of pure vexation though, I took it upon myself to suck in a breath of dry air, only to release it in a huff. I mirror his actions as well, bowing my head to take in the details of my shoes.

We had found these a few months back, along with some for Ellie. Her harsh aura had been flipped as soon as I presented her with the idea that we would have matching pairs of sneakers. It was the smallest of gestures, but it was done at a time of hope.

This version of hope so happened to be revived ten times greater than before, when we finally reached our goal given to us a year prior. But now, I finally realize that it was false hope.

With my reclaimed memories flooding back, a final statement replayed in my mind: If the fate of Ellie and I had looked like this before, I would have turned my back on the journey immediately.

“After everything we’ve done,” I felt the salt-tasting droplets of tears fall from my eyes, and down my reddened cheeks as I looked up at the selfish bastard I thought I knew, “after everything Ellie’s gone through, she-” I quickly lowered my head again, suffocating from my own words.

I sat myself down on the steps of his home. It had become habitual for me to reside at his place ever since we made it back to Jackson. Sitting on his porch, with a plate of food in our laps as we talked endlessly began to give me a form of peace after our horrific adventures across the country.

Now, it felt like I was stuck in a sustained deception of what I thought was a simmering hush from reality.  

With my head in my hands I let out a soft stifle of a cry, as I sat there in complete disbelief.

Then my heartbeat fastened, and my rapid movements from my anxieties stopped as I realised something.

“Ellie doesn’t know… does she?” my voice was delicate, but it still  held every sparing trace of anger sternly.

The silence continued to speak the answers for him, giving my hunch an even bigger victory. I truly didn’t want to believe this.

“Oh my god, oh my fucking god,” I groaned in agony as I stumble off the steps, feeling the sheer pain overwhelming me.

I clutched my chest as I felt it ring itself out, creating a boulder of tension within my entire body. I stood in the middle of his lawn, hyperventilating from the truth bearing its sharp daggers deep into my frame. The world around me was spiraling out of control, causing my balance to falter slightly.

This resulted in him rushing to my aid, but we damn well knew I didn’t want it. As soon as his hand grazed my arm, I swatted it away harshly, and twisted my body to face his worrisome one.

The developing resentment I had for him was far from dwindled, staying true within my eyes as I bored my stare into his. As I looked into his hazel ones, I could see each memory through them; the good and bad.

Floods pricked at my waterline again as I stared him down. Keeping myself contained from lashing out was becoming harder with each passing minute.

That was when one final memory was displayed through his dilated pupils.

The words replayed within my head.

“Swear to the both of us that everything you said about the fireflies is true.”

“I swear.”

Actuality set in again as I felt his hands gently caress my shoulders. The touch created fumes of heat that set themselves off completely, and my exasperation manipulated my system. I hadn’t realized I had my hands clenched in tight fists again until one finally met his face. Maybe I didn’t know any better.

He stumbled back slightly, his hand jerking its way to hold his pained cheek. He now had a wave of anger across his features, with his hardened attitude spiraling as much as mine.

Only my excuse wasn’t as far fetched as his must have been.

I tried to keep a firm stance, even with the overwhelming feeling of unconsciousness threatening the adrenaline and I. 

I still kept my fists clenched at my sides, with my knuckles fading into a white color,“You’re fucking selfish, and I hope you fucking know that.”

He mimicked my demeanor, as he stepped over to me. The closer he got, his frame began to tower over me. Though if his plan was to intimidate, he should know by now that it doesn’t work on me anymore.

“I did what I needed, to save you both.” His venomous, southern tone reverberated down to me, while his words contradicted it.

“Save us? “I laughed sarcastically, with a malicious hue coating me. I began to pace back and forth in front of him as I spoke, “Is that what were calling mass murder of the innocent these days? I suppose that goes for lying and manipulation too?”

“Kate-”

“Joel.”

His name drenched my mouth in poison.

Joel let out a heavy sigh, from what seemed to be frustration, while I wiped my tear-stained face aggressively.

He brings his hand to his face once more, stroking his unkempt beard while looking away. I held my gaze on him however, draining every last second I needed to be around him for.

An uneasy feeling began to settle within the pit of my stomach; I knew exactly what it was about.

I couldn’t bear to stay here any longer. This truth made the relationship I had with him, and life in Jackson unsalvageable. There was something pulling on my arm, however.

It was the thought of abandoning Ellie, knowing damn well I couldn’t do such a thing to her without letting her know. It would haunt me.

But, I wasn’t going to sit here while people were perishing by the second. I wasn't going to pretend life could feel normal again, regardless of my urge to live in such a fantasy. It may be something I wanted, but not something I needed. 

I knew for a fact that Ellie would feel the same if she knew the truth, but for once, I wanted the kid to live in this unrealistic version of tranquility; she needed to try an experience of what her teenage years could be like, even if it’s fucked up to extremes.

It wasn’t long before my contemplative thoughts were put to rest as Joel’s voice rang in my ear. I sigh, transferring my focus onto him. I knew what needed to be done.

“Kate, listen I-”

“Ellie,” I gulp down the saliva building up in my mouth, “I need you to take care of her.”

His face was glistening with confusion now.

“And tell Tommy and Maria I said thank you for letting me stay here.”

“Kate what the hell are you on abo-”

“I’m leaving,” I direct my eyes to the mountains beyond the borders of Jackson, crossing my arms in front of me, “I should be gone long before sunrise, so.”

I glance at Joel without moving my head, and see his face noticeably falling as the words fell from my lips. Silence tore a hole within us for a short time, only for Joel to be the first to speak.

“Do I need to remind you what is out there?”

“If you haven’t figured it out yet, Joel, I can take care of myself just fine.”

I begin to walk past him fixing my attention to gathering my shit, and getting the hell out of here. Though, Joel’s hand firmly grabs at my wrist, halting my attentiveness to the steps of the house ahead of me.

I yank my arm back to its rightful place at my side, shooting him a final look.

“Goodbye, Miller. Don’t come looking for me.”

I then walk myself into the house, deserting the former smuggler out in his front yard.

____________________

The life within the town had lessened to the hidden infestations of crickets that were scattered throughout,  and the sounds of my converse crunching the textured, dirt paths of Jackson.

There was a slight alteration to the electrical systems around here, leaving the barbed wire on one section of the fence to loose its function; along with sneaking past guards, it was the perfect getaway without getting noticed. 

Before even reaching a few yards towards the fence, I remember something.  I still had one last thing I needed to do before returning to the life away from here.

I exhale a large puff of air in frustration, and turn back towards the direction I had come from. I reach into my jacket pocket, just to be sure I had what I needed.

My hands held a letter, along with a worn out, yet surprising functional cassette. As I ventured down the roads, the written prompts from the letter replay.

Ellie,

I wanted to give you a proper goodbye, but it just wasn’t possible.

I’m sure you’ll be wondering where I have run off to, and why I won’t be in bed when you go to rudely wake me up by jumping on me.

I’m leaving Jackson. I have some personal things that have been eating at me, and I need to sort them out myself.  I told Joel to watch over you, and make sure you live as much as possible.

I’m not just talking about breathing. I need you to live your life up in Jackson as much as you can.

You deserve more happiness than anyone on this earth, Els.

And speaking of, I know you loved the song I sang to you at the bonfire the first night we were here. I found this a long time ago even before I met you and Joel. Consider it a very early birthday gift from me.

I love you kiddo.

-Kit

I felt something wet trickling down my face, only for me to abruptly swipe them off my scar-stained complexion.

I soon made it back to square one, making sure I remained quiet so both Ellie and Joel continued to sleep. If it were other situations, I wouldn’t mind too much. But I couldn’t face either of them any longer, as cowardice as it is.

I twist the doorknob to Ellie’s place, begging for it to be unlocked. Luck was my side, with the handle gently twisting with my hand.

With a few swift motions, I sneak myself in, silently closing the door with delicacy so Ellie wouldn’t wake up.

Her room was just coming together from it’s appearance; her worn furniture had been disarray across the wooden floors, along with several new articles of clothing scattered throughout the room. 

My eyes wandered to the posters plastered across the walls, that I assume were freshly hung up. It was beginning to look like the small garage was home to Ellie, making my anxieties for her adjustments here less of an issue than before. 

My attention finally directed itself to her frail stature, cuddled in a bed much larger than her. If it was possible, she could get lost in a bed like that due to her small frame.

She had a quilted blanket lazily draped over her, and a wide range of pillows supporting her head. She had been facing away from me, but I knew she was sleeping with her mouth open, as I could here the loud sounds of her breathing.

I smiled, wishing I was able to stifle a laugh without releasing her from her slumber. She had always been one to leave her mouth hanging open as she slept. The result was constant bantering between me poking fun, and her becoming defensive. 

Our relationship had developed so well over time, and it had begun to feel like she was my daughter. My other half. 

My smile immediately dropped as I dragged myself back into reality, and the reason why I was even here in the first place. I needed to do this, for myself and for her. I shook my head from its thoughts, and started for the direction of Ellie. 

I made sure to walk to her bedside table as quietly as my frantic self could, hoping I didn’t disrupt her sound sleep. With each step closer to her, I held my breath, hesitant to even do this at this point. 

As soon as I make it to her, I took in the features grazed upon her round head; her large cheeks sat with a shade of pink coating them, along with her freckles overriding her paler skin. Her eyes were closed gently, with her brows flatlined.

She was so peaceful when she slept. 

I took out the letter and cassette from my pockets, gracefully placing them both on the table without a trace of a blare. 

I held my fingertips on the letter, as if I were glued to the rustic piece of paper. I was hesitating again, so it was time for a push. 

I released my hand from it, and turned to Ellie. Before I could even think, I leaned towards her, and kissed her temple weakly, and backed away. 

As I had done before I went to the door with as little sound following me as possible, and twisted the knob of the entryway. 

The door was open now, blowing the soft, night winds onto my face as if it were patches of silk. 

As a final goodbye, I mentally threw a farewell into the open, as I gazed at my surrogate daughter one final time. Before I could shed a singular tear, I rushed out of there as fast as I could, releasing the tension-building breath I had forgot to unleash before. 

“I’m sorry.” I mumbled, with my voice becoming fragile as I spoke two final words in Jackson. 

It was time to walk away. 

As I venture back towards the fence as stealthily as I could, another set of Joel’s wise words skipped on a countless loop in my thoughts.

“No matter what, you keep finding something to fight for.”

I needed to search for my own answers, whatever they were.

This was, and still is something to fight for. 

I’m sorry.

#tlou joel #joel miller #joel #tlou #the last of us #last of us #Ellie Williams #ellie #sam drake #sam drake x oc #sam drake x reader #nathan drake #Uncharted 4 #uncharted #naughty dog #elena fisher #samuel drake #uncharted4athiefsend #fanfic #fanfiction

[yanderemommabean]

Yandere Illness Bakugou Katsuki (By Admin Mommabean)

The villain was definitely an easy take down. Small time crooks are always biting off more than they can chew in a fruitless effort to become the next big scare in the news and media. A few civilians were bruised up, but thankfully alive, all thanks to the new top ten heroes who were able to arrive on time. Katsuki was one of the first on the scene, getting up close and personal in his usual brash and on-sight attack methods, typically looked down upon by much more thorough and examining heroes after things were wrapped up. 

This time wasn’t unlike any other. The villain attacked, said some stupid things about how heroes are hypocrites, and was under Katsukis fist or boot once the soliloquy was about halfway done and grating on his nerves. Self righteous villains got on his nerves more than Izuku did when he was overly nerding out with people. 

The villain mumbled something incoherent when the cops arrived to lock them away, looking Katsuki dead in the eyes as they did so. He could only make out the last few words, and considered it drugged up nonsense. Something along the lines of “Your darkest desires will take over. I’m not the only one who’s sick”. 

Whatever that was supposed to mean, Katsuki couldn’t care less. He’s heard all types of death threats before, so this was nothing! A joke at this point really. “Mr. Bakugou, we need to inform you about this attack, it's urgent, but needs to be done in private” an investigator advised, taking his attention away from the car hauling the perpetrator away.  He nods in a silent agreement, about to ask when he should arrive, but was bombarded by media personnel and flashing phone cameras. 

He said his usual replies, knowing that things needed to be kept out of the spotlight for now until they figured out exactly what the villain was up too, and said about his usual amount of curse words along the entire short lived interviews.  

“Alright everyone, we have important issues to cover! Please leave your questions to the officers to the left of you, I need a moment with Mr. Ground Zero” A calm voice stated with hands held up to block his face from the paparazzi. Katsuki groans as the flock fleets over to the officers in a heartbeat, thankful that the man came to his rescue so to speak. 

“Their attention is off of me, so what’s wrong? This villain got some sort of mass murder planned like the old league?” he bit out with his arms crossed over his chest. Every other year, there’s a bad guy trying to redo what shigaraki couldn’t, and its getting pathetic that they keep trying. He recalls a villain last year who tried to be tough with a weak quirk, and it only ended in them being beaten up by Deku and him. Honestly, when will they learn? 

“That’s the issue. They weren’t a villain or a hero, just a civilian who was trying to get a coffee. The next thing we’re told, he’s proclaiming asinine things about love and his desire for some poor girl at the counter who he’s supposedly known for less than a year, attacking some people with his quirk when they tried to tell him to back off”. 

Well that's nuts. Was he upset that he got rejected? A love story gone wrong? 

“So he got his heart broken and retaliated in a bad way, doesn’t mean he has my sympathy, he still hurt people” He said blandly, as if he wasn’t affected. 

“We think its an illness. These cases have been popping up all over the country, as if its a disease that’s airborne. The symptoms are all the same” The man explained with a worried expression. “Well, we assumed it was airborne anyway...Now it seems to be more by droplets and touch. We’re concerned that this outbreak may have been passed to you, and we need to do some testing as soon as possible. I wish I had time to explain more, but we need to start disinfecting people as soon as possible”. 

What? This dude is telling him that he might be infected with a disease that makes him fall in love or some shit? That’s nuts! Absolutely batshit! “Im not letting some nerd tell me i'm sick if you can’t even tell me why this is so dangerous. I think I'll be just fine” he bites out, beginning to turn and head towards his house. 

“Mr please! It could be life and death! Just-” the medic stammers, trying not to anger the hot headed hero “Just...don’t come in contact with anyone for a while, and I’ll do what I can to explain everything. Please?” he asks with a pleading expression, hoping that the top hero would at least consider his options. 

With an annoyed huff, Katsuki nods, but doesn’t give anymore confirmation than that. He just wanted to continue his patrol and head home, he needed a nice shower after being covered in dirt and scratches. 

He walks in his home about half an hour later, scratching his head to shake loose some dirt as he flicks on the light. He huffed, tossing his mask aside to the couch while shutting the door with his foot. Soap and water sounded pleasant right about now, and he could feel his muscles aching for the attention of a steamy shower. 

“Your darkest desires will take over. I’m not the only one who’s sick” 

Those words echoed in his head as he stands under the spray of the water. What could they possibly mean? Were they aware that they were ill with whatever that nerd was telling him about? Were they even the same person anymore? 

He shakes his head and tries to focus on just relaxing, shampooing his hair and humming to himself softly, making the world around him nonexistent for a few moments as his eyes closed in thought. As usual, his personal time was short, and the ringing of his phone caused him to once again be aware that reality kinda sucks. 

He turned off the water and tried to dry his hands the best he could, picking up the device with a scowl “yeah? What is it?” He bit out water still dripping from his hair as he wrapped a towel around his waist. “M-Mr. Bakugo! I'm sorry if this is inconvenient, but I just got some news that you needed to hear! That man who was sent away was tested, and it turns out he was contaminated by a new virus”. 

“And? What's that gotta do with me? “ He asked with a quirked eyebrow “I need a shot or whatever?”. 

“There’s a vaccine being made now, but no cure....The symptoms and signs are hard to tell until its too late”. 

He knit his brows together while listening in, becoming slightly nervous “What are the signs? Quit beatin’ around the bush and tell me already!”. 

The man's voice squeaked a bit, and he began to try and explain without stuttering in fear. “Obsessive thoughts over someone, possessive behavior, delusional thinking, aggressive actions that can lead to injury or death for the other person, anxiety, insomnia- The list goes on! Its...It’s like a-”

“Like a love virus” Katsuki finished, his cheeks becoming red from the thought of who he could possibly even fall for. “You think I have it? You think I’d hurt people if I do?” He asked while trying to cover the worry in his voice, knowing that in order to solve problems you often have to remain level headed. 

“It’s hard to say at this moment, sir, but I can always send someone to do tests if you feel you’re having early signs and symptoms. For now, just use standard caution when meeting people. Gloves, masks, anything you feel would protect you and others. I promise, our team is doing their best to stop this disease in its tracks”. 

Katsuki runs his fingers through his hair as he listens, humming small agreements before ending the call, placing his cell phone on the side of the sink with shaking hands. “I can’t be sick like that bastard! I won’t let it happen!” he says aloud, looking at himself in the foggy mirror before him. 

“I’m not sick. I won’t get sick. I'm a hero! Heroes don’t get sick! They help the sick!” he states while pointing at himself. “I. Won’t. Get. Sick”. He’s sure he’s fine! He won’t get these symptoms! No, he’s as healthy as can be! 

Poor thing has no idea that the virus has already taken over, and that his trials have just begun. 

#Yandere virus #yandere sickness #yandere scenarios #yandere bnha #yandere Bakugou #yandere bakugo #yandere imagines #yandere male #mommabean #BNHA #yandere prompts

[dat-town]

(we are all someone’s) monster

Characters:

Jihoon, Y/N’s brother

Chanyeol, Jihoon’s best friend

Sehun, Yixing, Suho are Jihoon’s and Chanyeol’s friends

Baekhyun, Xiumin, Chen, Kai, D.O are members of the gang named CBX

Genre: action, crime

Setting: set in somewhat in the future, gang au with scifi and dystopian elements

Warnings: minor character death off scene, grief, mentions of gambling, drug usage, murder, violence and all that usual gang stuff i guess

Summary: Neo Seoul is a place without laws and one reckless mistake can cost you more than you ever imagined.

Words: 8.1k

Notes: partly inspired by the Reign quote: “I miss the girl you were.” “Many will. She was easier to kill.”  but mostly by the Lotto and Monster MVs (watch them in this order for better imaginary)

Happy birthday to one of my favourite hype women, this ray of sunshine who never fails to make me smile and even when you think, you’re too much, you’re just enough. Love you, @lily-blue​ <3

Night had always seemed to fall early on Neo Seoul.

Maybe that was why parents didn't warn their children about nightfall anymore: nobody dared to step outside of their house anyways if they didn't know how to protect themselves. After the curfew, only gang members and the reckless roamed on the streets, playing their never-ending cat and mouse games with the agents in charge.

You thought it was ridiculous, how the government cut off this part of the country and called it rotten and dirty, a lost case. You still remembered when they quarantined the entire city, not caring about the innocent people stuck inside, they merely wished to isolate the most dangerous criminals of the nation. The no way out situation should have made it easier to catch them and in theory it worked great. They just didn't calculate how fast the gangs would take charge and special task forces were required more and more often to stop the chaos. It seemed like some people would have rather burnt the whole city down than to go down alone. One misstep and anyone could die. There were no laws or justice in a place like this. Not anymore. Only power and survival mattered. You had learned that the hard way.

"I told you to stay away," a deep voice sounded from behind you and you gulped a bit nervously, licking your dry lips before turning around. A tall figure stepped out of the shadows but you didn't back away. You knew you didn't need to be afraid of Chanyeol.

"You can't tell me what to do," you retorted and the boy scoffed at you, rolling his eyes, slightly annoyed. There was nothing left from the playfulness emitting from his eyes like when he showed you how to start a car without the key.

"I know but your brother would hate me if I didn't try to keep you out of trouble," he reminded you and the mention of your brother left a bitter taste in your mouth. You remembered his lifeless body on the pavement, blood pouring from his chest, painting the concrete crimson while your screams and cries were muffled into Chanyeol's shirt as he held you, so you wouldn't break apart and fall to pieces in your grief.

"Well, he's dead, so you don't have to worry about that," you bit back a bit more harshly than intended but the loss of your brother was still a fresh wound despite the months that passed since the shooting.

"Doesn't mean I'm not worried about you," Chanyeol said with fire in his dark eyes but it only made you feel momentarily guilty. You turned back to the door without sparing a second glance at the redhead behind you and with quick, skilled fingers you picked the lock, opening the padlock before kicking the back door of the store open. You and your brother used to hang out here a lot with his friends but it had been locked down ever since it became a death scene.

You walked to the basement door, a part of you expecting the lanky boy to follow your inside but he was nowhere to be found when you looked back on. Hah, why was he there and what did he want, you wondered but instead of dwelling over useless things like that, you hurried down to get extra cartridges and some cash from your brother's hidden safe. A girl needed to know how to protect herself in a world like yours after all.

Everything was different before the lock down. You were just a normal girl with normal dreams but then suddenly you were thrown into this game of survival against your will. At first, it all felt surreal and you thought it would be over before you could get used to this but no, that didn't happen. You couldn't even stay out of it no matter how much you wished you had nothing to do with it. Your only mistake was to work a regular cashier job at that exact shop where a dealer was killed and you accidentally saw it. Your brother decided to learn to shoot to be able to protect you and it turned out some of his friends had already had his own connections to the underworld of Neo Seoul. Soon, the chatty movie session turned into shooting practices, fist fights and it all spiralled down. There was no way back to normal.

Not after you saw your brother getting shot for a debt worth only a few bags of rice.

You locked yourself up for weeks, not speaking with anyone, not opening the door to anyone, willing to give it up until the spark of survival instinct pushed you forward. You needed to live in order to avenge your brother. You needed to figure out who gave the order and who pulled the trigger and wanted them dead. An eye for an eye. It was a brutal world after all.

You shoved the ammo and money into your bag, put it on and was ready to leave already. A quick 5 minute job. Chanyeol was worried about nothing.

Stepping out onto the streets that were eerily quiet at first, you looked at the neon lights coming from the main road and decided to take a detour. By passing the garbage on the streets you went from alcove to alcove and waited by fire stairs when you heard noises around you. You learned to be careful, careful enough to get the rundown place you called home safe and sound, knowing fully well that something was off.

Your hands hovered over the light switch and looked around in the dimly lit room, moonlight and neon colours filtered through the blinds. You closed the door three times, not two, you always did, so that meant that someone had either been there or was still inside.

You pulled your gun - used to be your brother's - out from your belt and pointed straight at the source of the noise when the old wooden floor creaked. You pressed on the switch, then suddenly light filled the room and your finger trembled over the trigger.

"What a way to greet an old friend," the boy dared to smirk at you, so sure of himself that you wouldn't shoot him.

Old friend, he said, but it was ironic because he was never a friend. He was the black sheep of the group. He was the silent force. He was only a friend of a friend.

He came with Chanyeol, like a package, and the elder being your brother's best friend, you knew him too. Cross that, you knew of him but you never knew him, not really. He was that kind of mysterious kid who nobody really knew. He was the whiskey on the top of your tongue after a wild night though. He was the mischief in staying out after curfew. He was the lighter and you were the match.

"Where were you?" you asked him firmly, not lowering the gun.

"Around. Heard you didn't want company and disappeared. Yeol couldn't shut up about you," the midnight black haired boy's voice was half amusement, half annoyance but you could at least tell that it was a lie. He didn't find it funny.

"Then why are you here now?" you kept on the interrogation. He disappeared too right after your brother died, he was the only one out of your friends' group who didn't even show up at the funeral or whatever you were allowed to have under the circumstances.

"Because I have info you might be interested in," he tilted his head, almost a challenge and that was what he had always been. Oh Sehun was still a mystery to you, after all these years.

You sighed and lowered the gun, closing the door behind you after toeing off your shoes. Not that you thought Sehun would actually hurt, you just… you were wary of everybody these days. It was better this way: better safe than sorry, your brother would have been proud.

“So… what is it? What’s so important you sneaked in so late instead of knocking on my door like any decent person would have?” you huffed, grabbing two beers from your small, almost empty fridge and throwing one can at the boy towering in your living room before sinking deep into your cozy, worn out couch.

“You wouldn’t have opened the door to any decent person,” Sehun scoffed at you, knowing too well and bobbed his head towards you in appreciation for the cold beverage. He took his time sitting down and playing on your nerves. He wasn’t wrong though.

You gritted your teeth, taking a sip of your cheap beer, trying to be nonchalant. As if you didn’t notice the scar on his cheek or that his jacket was a bit worn. It looked like he had a rough few weeks behind him.

“I asked around to figure out who wanted Jihoon dead,” the boy spoke up eventually and you flinched at your brother’s name. You sucked in a breath, eyes finding Sehun’s above your drink. “Have you ever heard of the organization named CBX?”

“They have that casino downtown, don’t they?” you furrowed your brows, trying to remember why the abbreviation sounded so familiar. Sehun hummed.

“They do have a casino but they have lots of other underground business. Chicken and dog fights, drug dealing, stolen goods, anything you can illegally trade with,” he said and you shouldn’t have been surprised to hear about it. A casino being the cover business for such things was almost too predictable but now these gangs didn’t even want to hide. “They gamble with lives too and they provide loans for desperate ones. So my guess is that Jihoon got on their bad side.”

You have been trying to figure out what was behind the shooting that came from an unidentified grey van but you couldn’t go anywhere. You didn’t even know that Jihoon was in debt and that he owed to gang members, it was Chanyeol who told you but he said he didn’t know whom exactly he had connections with. You didn’t know how Sehun figured this out, or how much he knew but you didn’t want him to get involved because of you. You had enough of people sacrificing themselves for you. Your brother was enough, no wonder you cut ties with everybody after his death. A lonely life wasn’t the best but it was better than the guilt.

“Okay, how good that guess is?” you gulped down your bitterness.

“Pretty good but you can't bring them down alone, don’t even think about it," Sehun told you and his worried tone was laughable. As if it wasn’t him with whom you were almost caught by the agents for staying out after curfew.

"Watch me," you rolled your eyes at him, standing up from your place on the couch and turning your back to him. “I guess you know where the exit is,” you said with a strong hint in your voice, indicating that you wanted him gone soon. But Sehun wasn’t one to take commands well.

“Yah, don’t be stupid,” he grabbed on your wrist stopping you but you didn’t have any of it.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you snapped at him, yanking your arm out of his grip. A sudden flare of anger flashed through you as you whipped your head around him. “I’m not fucking twenty years old anymore who was stupid enough to fall in love with you just because you spared a glance at me.”

Only silence followed your remark and you could see the surprise in the boy’s dark eyes. He didn’t expect that kind of answer. Maybe he didn’t expect you to bring up your mistake by yourself. It was your fault, being young and foolish, falling for the mysterious bad boy-type of guy just because he was considerate with you. But confessing on a drinking night, lips still sweet from the melon vodka you just had was just as silly as your feelings themselves. Of course, Sehun started avoiding you then. You weren’t going to make another mistake like that: naive and reckless.

“Just… be careful,” the boy said in the end, voice resigned as he backed away, opening the door for himself. There was something haunting in his eyes, something like regret but you refused to think about it as you slid down by the wall, hiding your face into your hands.

With the information you had gotten, you started investigating, collecting articles, wanted posters, anything connected to the CBX and it seemed like they indeed had their hands in many nasty things but nobody wanted to talk about them, probably they were too afraid to. So you didn’t really have much of a choice, you had to see the place for yourself and ask around.

It was actually easier than expected. They didn’t even check you at the casino’s entrance, they didn’t ask for your ID or bank account when you exchanged cash for tokens, they just let you in. No wonder there were all kinds of people there and all kinds of games too the deeper you went inside, following tips of players. It was some kind of sin dungeon with all sorts of illegal stuff some you wished to forget you even saw.

“Are you lost, little girl?” A guy with Chesire smile walked into your vision, his eyes mischievous and not promising any good. He came closer than you would have preferred but you didn’t want to draw attention by pulling out your gun so soon.

“No. Actually I’m looking for someone,” you said, confident and willing yourself to not to grimace at the alcohol smell coming from the guy. “I heard there’s someone lending out loans here.”

This was your best bet. If they could lead you to the guy handling debts here, you could see if he reacted to your brother’s name but first, you had to find him. The Chesire cat smile guy seemed giddy at the mention though, so you were hopeful.

“Oooh... Xiumin? His office is at the end of the corridor,” he pointed at a black painted door and when you pulled away, your steps leading you to said door, the guy yelled after you, laughing. “Have fun!”

His voice creeped you out and you basically felt his following gaze on your back until you reached the unmarked door and knocked three times.

The guy who opened it wore a loose dress shirt, cigarette hanging from his lips and he blew the smoke into your face.

“So… you’re here for money? How much?” he asked straightforwardly as soon as you stepped into his office, taking a seat on the sofa he showed you. There were several safes in the room probably filled with gold and cash but in reality, you didn’t care. You just wanted to meet the man who provided Jihoon.

“Five million,” you blurted out the first number you could think of but Xiumin looked at you suspiciously.

“That’s a lot,” he noted in a calm but warning manner. It wasn’t a no though, so you pressed further. 

“I heard you’re the only one to provide enough for that.”

Now that seemed to interest the guy, he took another big inhale from his cigarette while not taking his eyes off you and mumbled: “Who told you that?”

“P.O,” you told him your brother’s nickname but the guy didn’t show any signs of knowing who he was. He didn’t question you about who he was though, so he probably had an idea of his own. You were almost sure it wasn’t enough to convince him to give you that much money, so you weren’t surprised when he asked for insurance.

“What’s the collateral? How will you make sure I get my money back?” The loan shark leaned back in his chair casually, fingertips rubbing against each other while you had to come up with a believable excuse for you to need that much money. 

“I need this to get my store running again, if it happens, I will be able to pay even for the interest,” you claimed but it didn’t seem to be enough as the guy merely shook his head.

“Not many businesses survive in Neo Seoul these days. You need to give me a better reason.”

His arrogance annoyed you because you couldn’t figure out anything like this and you weren’t about to sell your soul for five million you didn’t need anyways.

“If you don’t want to give me a loan, just say so. Looks like I’m wasting my time here,” you hissed and stood up, ready to leave hastily.

“You are brave for coming here after what happened to your brother,” Xiumin’s retort was however enough to stop you mid-action. “Don’t you think it’s selfish of you to ask for more money when your dear friend paid back what your brother owed me just to protect you?”

“So you admit you killed him?”

“Me? That wouldn’t have been worth it for me. I needed him alive to get my money back,” the guy lifted his hands in a defensive manner, somewhat amused by your groundless accusation as if you were a child getting ahead of yourself. Your hands turned into fists from the anger bubbling up in you. Because if it wasn’t him then who was it? And why? And who was that friend that paid for the debt? You didn’t even think of it but the loan shark probably sent him men to collect the money after your brother died. Who stopped them before they could have gotten to you?

The last one was suddenly all too obvious: Chanyeol.

It wasn't hard to find him at all. He still lived in that camping car he had been driving around since he was 19 and you knew his favourite parking spots by heart. You repeatedly hit on its door, calling his name but all you had met with were echoes of the metal clashing. You gave up with a huff but when you turned around, there he was crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Are you looking for me?" he raised a brow and you immediately hit on his chest.

"How dare you go behind my back and pay back Jihoon's debt without telling me?"

Chanyeol let you use him as a punchbag until your anger subsided, knowing too well that it was about your trust and not the money. When your shoulders eventually fell, he put his hands over your fist, his warm skin soothing you.

"I'll tell you everything," he promised and pulled you inside his trailer, sitting you down on his bed. He made sure you paid attention before he started speaking, telling you how Jihoon had been acting weird before his death, a bit off. He didn’t want to speculate anything and upset you for nothing in case he was wrong, especially after his best friend died. So he took it upon himself to sell a few of his precious old records and pay off your brother’s loan that he had taken to keep your place even after rents had gone up. He hadn’t told you because he didn’t want to burden you, especially after you had shut everyone out.

“Okay, now tell me how you figured it out,” Chanyeol looked at you expectantly and in exchange for everything he had just told you, you knew he deserved at least that much, so you let him know about your visit in the casino. You saw him get tense at the mention of the gambling den and that you talked with the loan shark but he stayed silent even when you finished.

“I’m not a little girl needing protection anymore,” you reminded him because he kept treating you like you were a child just because you had been his best friend’s little sister. Chanyeol looked at you as if you hit him with those words.

“I know and I miss the girl you were,” he said firmly, voice raspy and stretchy as he looked over at you. Despite the word miss and what that could have implied, his tone missed fondness. You raised your chin slightly and scoffed at the ridiculous claim.

“Many will. She was easier to kill,” you agreed and got up from the worn material of the bed. What was there to miss? Your naivety? You quickly made your way out of Chanyeol’s car and only faltered when he called out your name, his tone resigned.

“They killed him because they think Jihoon had been reporting to government agents,” he called after you, voice dissolving in the windy air but it still punched every bit of oxygen out of your lungs. Breathing suddenly became harder and hiding behind brick fall, you put your trembling hands in front of your mouth.

So Jihoon did die because of you after all...

It all started about a year ago. You had been sneaking out regularly by then, sometimes to meet Sehun in dark alleys, riding on his bike behind him or just by yourself for the adrenaline or for fresh air, away from your brother’s protective eyes. Maybe if he was there with you, if you had called Sehun that day, this all wouldn’t have happened. But you were out of luck, cornered by four patrolling agents. Since it had been your first offence, they had been easy on you, offering you a deal: information for safety, so you were one of their eyes on the inside, letting them know about everything you heard or saw. It had been your little secret and now it killed a man.

You knew you had to act quickly because if the gang was willing to kill a man for your sins, your life was in an even bigger danger than you realized. You were only safe until they didn't know, so you had to be extra careful from now on. Or you had to make sure they couldn't touch you. So maybe your plan was made on the whim, maybe it was a leap of faith but you wanted these assholes to pay for what they had done… in one way or another. So you made a plan overnight. You admitted it wasn't your most secure and foolproof one but it was a plan nevertheless and if everything worked out, this CBX organisation would go down which was exactly what you wanted.

You activated your aurec - a specific type of audio recorder which also functioned as a tracker using GPS coordinates - and thread it onto your necklace, hiding it under your clothes, securing your gun under your leather jacket and stepped out to the streets of Neo Seoul, heading straight for the casino just before nightfall. You were about to act like you came back for that loan you had previously discussed with Xiumin as well but in reality you still had no intention of actually doing anything with their dirty money, you just needed proof or at least a good enough reason for the agents to cut this business off. It went almost too easily: asking around and having people tell you about the drugs they had brought here, the deals they made, the things they had seen. You were sure it added up to enough sin to put the leaders behind the bars for a long while.

But of course, it was suspicious - how easy it was. You knew you should have been more careful when asking around about your brother, whether anyone had heard of him. You should have left until you could when people started whispering behind your back but you were determined and high on adrenaline, so you only noticed the two guys watching you when it was already too late. You had nowhere to run then and then the whole world went dark.

It felt like waking from a very long and absurd dream. You had been running in a white dress and two wolves had been chasing you but neither the dress nor the animals were anywhere when you opened your eyes, so you were sure they drugged you with something. It was still hard to concentrate.  You shook your head, looking around but when you tried to move you realised you were tied in place in a windowless, dark room, facing a man on a high chair.

"Morning, Sleeping Beauty," he singsonged tilting his head as his gaze roamed over your body. "Oh, don't look at me like that. It's like you want to kill me which is funny because it's you who came spying to my place. I should be the angry one."

"This place is a cesspit," you spat at which the guy let out a laughter.

"Hah, you have some nerve calling my place like that. I'm a businessman, you know, I just give people what they want. Not my fault that they make morally wrong decisions," he shrugged and even though there was some logic in what he said, it didn't give him the right to act like an almighty. Not to mention you couldn’t care less about the gambling, the drugs or whatever. But killing people was wrong on so many levels, so you gritted your teeth.

"Do you call murder a business decision as well?" you raised a brow and you knew you were too reckless for your own good, but at this point you didn't care about your well-being. You had been caught and you were alone, your gun on the desk in front of the gang leader. Though if he wanted to kill you, he could have done so easily. Why go through the trouble of capturing you and entertaining you with small talk like this? He must have wanted something from you.

"Oh, is it about your brother? Do you still think it was my fault?" the guy laughed again, condescendingly. Then shrugged. "I don't care about nobodies like him. Sure, he owed Xiumin but a lot of other people do."

You furrowed your brows. Why did he talk like he didn't know about the informer? Was Chanyeol's info wrong?

The guy stood up hence your blood rate increased, fear injected in your veins the closer he got. From this close you could see the dangling piece of earring he wore, the scar under his eyes and the smirk on his face. He took a hold of your chin, turning your face towards him as if pondering over something while you formed fists out of your hands, ready to do something stupid when the door opened bringing the sound of chaos from outside.

"Baekhyun, we are attacked," said the tall, tanned guy whom you had seen getting high the last time. At that, the gang leader in front of you turned his head towards him slowly, disinterested and eventually he let go of you. You felt relief rush through you as you thought the tracker idea indeed worked.

"By whom?" he asked, lazily scrolling through the room and got hold of your gun. Your brother's gun. It would be ironic to die by that. Ironic but maybe fair if Jihoon really died because of you.

"We're not sure. Just some guys. They have smoke bombs and destroy everything they see," the guy explained and suddenly your earlier relief was gone. So weren't the agents coming to get you? Then was it another gang? Hell, did you really get stuck between two?

"Then stop them for god's sake. What are the others doing?" Baekhyun rolled his eyes but the other stood at the door a bit anxiously.

"Chen is too drunk out of his mind and Xiumin is off to do some deals. D.O refused to stop the chicken fight."

"Those imbeciles. I can't believe I have to do everything on my own," the leader scoffed and was ready to leave but at the doorstep he looked back at you with a smirk in the corner of his mouth. "And Kai, make sure she doesn't get out. She might cause trouble for us."

Kai averted his gaze to you with an amused expression on his model-like face and then, closed the door behind himself, leaving you alone in the empty and dark room.

Only a few moments later you smelled something sticky and felt dizzier, absentmindedly realising the effect of the gas that put you in a daze. Like this within the black surroundings, time passed slowly, or at least that was how it felt since you couldn't tell it based on anything. You were also a bit worried about not being found after the random guys managed to bring down the whole building, so you knew you had to get out no matter what. Unfortunately, the ties around your wrists were too tight and you were too weak in that state of yours. Jihoon wouldn’t have been too proud.

You grew anxious at the approaching sounds of footsteps and fight as well, you could only tell that the chaos reached this deep in the multilevel building and you flinched when the door opened once again, light filling the room.

For a moment it blinded you, then narrowing your eyes you had seen two figures but you couldn't tell they were allies or enemies.

"We found her," yelled someone and oh... you knew that voice. The realization made you relax.

It was the one whispering to you on a cold night. It kept you awake, giving you chills. It haunted you when you wanted nothing but forget. It was like a beautiful dawn you could never not miss.

"Sehun?" you whispered, mouth dry and cough as this substance in the air was scratching your throat.

"We'll get you out of here," the boy told you and for a moment you felt safe in his arms. You let yourself enjoy his closeness and care but then you remembered that you wanted, that you needed to warn him, to tell him something but you blacked out again.

Somehow, in the back of your mind, it registered that someone cut through your ties, asked whether you could walk on your own and held your hand. You saw a flash of red, dark eyes and heard people fighting through each other. Your legs led you unconsciously as you ran through a corridor right after Chanyeol while Sehun stayed behind punching the guys trying to stop you. When you turned your eyes at a bright spot from outside, you saw Suho set fire to a pile of money and heard Chanyeol yelling to tell Yixing, he could stop hacking the CCTV even though it seemed like a fever dream.

Why would your friend do something so dangerous for you? Going against a gang by themselves! It was crazy. Especially after how you treated them after Jihoon’s death. But then you heard the sounds of guns and it made you afraid more than anything.

"Shit, the agents," Chanyeol cursed and you wanted to tell him to run, to leave you behind but your tongue was too heavy and you still felt so tired. It made you feel pathetic.

Finally, after what felt like an infinity, you reached the parking lot, and the boy told you to stay still until he jumped onto the hood of this one car there that had somebody inside. You only recognized who when your friend yanked Kai outside of it and knocked him out before helping you sit in the passenger's seat and drive away.

"The others..." You protested weakly but Chanyeol hushed you.

"Don't worry. They will join us soon," he tried to reassure you but it wasn't all too convincing when another swear word fell from his lips and steered the wheel sharply to the right. Apparently you didn't get far this way either and he had to hit the brakes anyways. You forced your eyes open, seeing a row of SWAT cars in front of you, weaponized agents pointing their guns at the car.

You attempted to scream after Chanyeol, to stop him but he got out of the car all too soon, yelling at the government soldiers as if he could have scared them away. It was hopeless, you knew, and tears started prickling your eyes when you saw those men force the guy against the hood of the car, handcuffing him behind his back.

One of the agents helped you get out of the car, gently walking you away as if Chanyeol was a criminal while you were an innocent girl, the irony tasted bitter in your mouth but you were smarter than to try and convince the agents on spot to let him go. You needed to speak with their commander, the one you were reporting for. But you couldn't put your friends' lives into his hands, you needed a plan B.

You acted as if your legs were wobbly, stumbling a bit and the agent kindly helped you find your balance again but this way you got close enough to Chanyeol, to drop your aurec into his hands, hoping that he would get the memo and keep it safe and hidden.

You were taken into a hospital on the border of Neo Seoul where the agents were stationed and after the doctors advised you some rest, you were discharged the next morning. Your first visit led you to Commander Lim, demanding an explanation.

"Thank you for all your help. Without you, we couldn't take them down so easily," he bobbed his head in appreciation towards you, offering you a cigarette too since he was about to light one for himself.

"But there were innocents there too," you tried to reason without sounding desperate. You needed to know whether they got everybody there or at least what happened to your friends.

"Innocents? Do you think anyone who goes to such places can be innocent? Don't worry our jurisdiction system will make a difference between those who gave themselves up and not resented, those who had weapons with them or if they had previously committed crimes," the man said taking a long inhale from the smoke then nodded towards a box on his desk. "Your reward. For your help. Although next time try not to do something risky like this without heads up. I almost couldn't form a unit in time."

You pressed your lips together, looking at the money in disdain even though you knew you needed it if you needed to get your friends out.

"You got everyone?" you questioned, holding your breath back which was followed by a hum from the agent.

"Byun Baekhyun got away but we captured all the other known criminals," he told you and you swore under your breath which didn't go unnoticed by the man. He squinted at you. "Do not fret about him. We will find him soon, too."

You nodded, as if that was your biggest concern and when he asked about your aurec, you told him you lost it while you were inside the casino, before all hell had broken loose. Then you were excused and you knew that you needed to take matters into your own hands.

However, Byun Baekhyun's vengeance came earlier than expected and he found you faster that you could have searched for him at all. The moment you got back to your rundown apartment with shitty security apparently, he was already there, sitting by your living room table as if he was over for a casual chit-chat. Except that the smirk in the corner of his mouth didn't seem kind nor his actions were too promising. A lighter twitched in his pale fingers, its flame's reflection flickered in his dark orbs. Click- click.  Burn or not to burn.

"So it was you," he spoke out, voice amused and he even had it in him to let out a bitter laugh. "Wouldn't have thought so no matter your fierceness," he scoffed but despite his easy-going attitude you were careful. Sometimes people like him were the most unpredictable, hence the most dangerous ones. After all, somehow he ended up being the most sly person in his gang, even getting away when the agents captured everybody else.

"What do you want?" you kept a close eye on him, waiting for him to snap and attack you but Baekhyun was like a lazy predator, slowly driving you crazy in the tingling familiar feeling of fear. You told yourself you weren't afraid of death, not if you avenged your brother, but if you died now, there would be nobody to free Chanyeol, Sehun and the others.

"Isn't it obvious? I want back what was mine. But most of all, my money and my men. A few at least," he grimaced before something dangerous flashed in his eyes as he looked over you. "Why us? There are so many other gangs in Neo Seoul, what do you have against us? It's not like you're perfect morally, so I bet we were targeted on purpose."

The fact that he had to ask you made your blood boil. Sure, he must have had too much blood on his hands to keep track of the lost souls but it only angered you more. You wished he was rather tortured and haunted by those he murdered.

"Are you kidding me? You killed my brother!" you snapped at him but you only received an eyeroll to that. How dared he?

"I have already told you that it wasn't us. Where did you get that shit info?" the gang leader spat and seeing your disbelief written clearly on your face, he sighed. "Stupid. There are so many people out there wanting to see me out of the picture, of course they would tell you that. Next time do you research better, little girl."

For the first time, you considered that he was telling the truth. Why would he have denied something like that? He seriously didn't seem to get why he was targeted and if he knew about your brother, he would have probably guessed if it was really him. Right? It wasn't like he was afraid of you, he had no reason for it. Out of the two of you, it was him with a lighter in his hands in the middle of your apartment. But he was alone, just like you. Maybe he needed you just as much as you needed someone who was familiar in the underworld.

"If I help you get out your men, will you help me find out who killed Jihoon?" you proposed with a raise of brow. Though, you hated even the idea of working together with a gangster like him but you realized that this was your best chance. You might have had money and wits but you didn't have connections and enough resources to do anything.

"Is it that important for you that you would trust me on it?" The man tilted his head, watching you closely, probably thinking there was some kind of trick up in your sleeves. But it was about your brother and your friends, so you nodded firmly.

"I would even make a deal with the devil."

"Well, I'm close enough," Baekhyun smirked and hummed. "But only if you actually turn out to be useful and not just be in the way. What can you offer at all?"

It was obvious he doubted you just as much as you doubted him. At least you were on equal grounds based on your trustworthiness. But first, you wanted him to say it, even if his word meant nothing in the end.

"Do you promise to help me?"

"What? Do you need a blood oath or something," the man scoffed, rolling his eyes at you but seeing your determination, he gave up the childish fight first. "Yes, I promise. Now satisfied?"

You nodded and pulled up a city map hologram over your coffee table, pointing at the agent base on the eastern side of the city.

"They keep them locked down for now. There's no way we can get in and out without getting caught but I can find out when they will be moved out of the city. I also know a way to find them but we need someone who can hack aurecs," you explained and Baekhyun seemed seemingly impressed by the technology you had in your shabby apartment. He probably wouldn't have guessed that either.

"That's no problem, I have friends who can deal with that."

"And we get out my friends as well. Then they can tell you who it was who gave the false info to end your gang on purpose. How does that sound?" You looked the man in the eye, hoping he intended to keep his side of the promise as well.

"Satisfying, I have to admit," the gang leader hummed, putting out the flame in the lighter. and got up, pulling his hoodie over his head. "Get the info then and use this burner phone to text me when you have it," he threw his phone at you after resetting it, saving only one number in its contacts.

Then he was gone without traces left behind, like smoke.

Luckily you didn't have to try too hard to get the info. Commander Lim himself told you that soon those who were responsible for your brother's death would end up in the nation's most secure jail. The relief on your face was probably interpreted as happiness over this fact while your hands were itching to text Baekhyun who called you over to some PC room. It turned out, his hacker friend who hastily introduced himself as Taemin while typing furiously on the keyboard was frequent there. You were in awe how easily he hacked the small device to switch on and start signalling its location, giving you an exact position of your friends. You had seen the eight suspects they planned to move together and there were all your friends alongside the criminals called Xiumin, Chen, Kai and D.O.

You anxiously waited for the point on the map to move but it seemed to be as still as a rock until Baekhyun was convinced they had already gotten rid of the aurec and encouraged Taemin to try to hack into the government's system. However, the moment the curfew time arrived, the flashing red dot changed its location and kept moving forward.

"Finally," the man grunted, standing up and he threw something into your lap. Only looking down you recognized your brother's gun. "Let's go," he nodded at you and you didn't hesitate to follow him to the parking lot. You were both already dressed up as government agents, their black uniform consisting of bulletproof vests and helmet since you planned to hijack the moving van before it could have reached the border.

The streets were mostly empty and dark, only the neon lights lighting up the way and your heart was beating so loud and so fast, you didn't quite believe you were doing this: you willingly helped a criminal save his comrades just so you could also save your friends. But you knew that the law was never kind to people in Neo Seoul.

It took you thirty minutes of drive to get ahead of the van approaching the northern gate and seeing the red dot coming closer in rapid speed, Baekhyun gave out the command: "Taemin, now."

"And 3... 2... 1... You are on their frequency, " the guy told them and the gang leader lifting the walkie talkie to his mouth. "Here's NS3351-GK speaking. There's a change of plan. Information has been leaked. Your car model and licence plate number are on the public network. It's an emergency. Do you understand, comrade?"

For a moment there was silence and you weren't sure they bought it even though even the code number you gave to Baekhyun was right. Then the system let out a creaky sound.

"Here's NS5672-LE speaking. We understood, sir. What's the change of plan?" the agent asked and you sighed in relief. Good, things were going according to the plan.

"There's a black van waiting for you at the 34th exit. Licence plate number: 3-7-5 수 5-2-2-0. Transfer the captives and continue your path," Baekhyun gave out the orders and there was a smirk in the corner in his mouth when you indeed saw the car take the right turn on the map. Both of you put on the helmets and saluted to the agents who arrived. Seeing your friends with scars across their faces you didn't even want to think of them getting beaten up for claiming they weren't gang members and instead focused on your role. You stayed in your seat, hand on your gun, watching the agents while Baekhyun got out to help one of the agents to get the handcuffed men into your men. Obviously they weren't too happy about being dragged back and forth but they had no choice.

Once everybody was in your car, you saluted the agents and separately, you headed towards the closest exit out of the city. Taemin also hacked the gate guards’ system, letting them know of the arriving van and their passengers, sending them the modified written order through hologram, hence you weren't surprised by the green light you got as you approached the gates. More salutes and then before you could even believe it, you had already left Neo Seoul behind.

It was too good to be true. You dreamed of leaving the city even since all this shit started but you wouldn't have thought it would be this easy. Sure, it wouldn't have happened without becoming a criminal yourself but at least you were free. Relatively.

Once you were far enough for the quarantined town, Baekhyun pulled the van aside and both of you got out, rounding the van, opening the back door. Eight pairs of eyes looked at you and watched with their breath held back as the two of you pulled your helmets off. It was Chanyeol who spoke up first, calling your name, calling you crazy and it was so familiar, his scolding that made you let out a chuckle.

"I told you I didn't need your help," you shrugged your shoulder, trying to play it cool while you stumbled to find the right keys for each handcuff. You knew that probably your friends felt just as conflicted now as you were when they had come for your rescue in the casino.

“How could you expect us not to help?” Yixing scoffed and you gave him a pointed look.

“Then how do you expect me to not help you?” you asked and reciprocated Suho’s hug once his hands were free.

It was a mess really, you didn’t even pay attention to Baekhyun and his gang already getting away by the time you got to Sehun at the end of the row. You didn’t look at him, instead you focused on his hands, the scars the handcuff left on his wrists and you tried to be gentle as you put the key in the lock but before you could have opened the metal cage around his hands, he shifted them to put his palms over your hands. It confused you, so you looked up on instinct, ready to ask him what he was doing but the look in the boy’s eyes made you go speechless.

His always dark eyes now had even more depth. It felt like looking into a tunnel with no end, up to the night sky with million stars, into his soul with all its secrets and shouldn’t haves. You suddenly remembered his porch, his kiss burning on your lips, calling it a mistake. You remember how much it hurt and yet you couldn’t forget him nor stop this yearning. Maybe it was exactly what went on inside Sehun’s head as well since you both almost lost each other in the matter of days and now even though everything was still so uncertain, at least he was there in flesh, real and tangible.

So when he leaned forward, you called your eyes on instinct and hummed into his bruising kiss not caring about the ones the handcuff stuck between the two of you left. You reached a hand to Sehun’s wounded cheek and caressed it while pulling him closer, needing him like you needed air and your friends’ snickering faded into the background as your heart finally found its pair in this crazy monster like world.

#exo scenarios #exo imagines #exo x reader #exo x y/n #sehun x reader #stories

[hyperpsychomaniac]

Who Says You Can't Go Home - Chapter 4

Darkwing Duck (90s series) fanfiction

Sequel to my recent fanfic The Other Side of Me

Summary: Down on his luck, the Negaverse Launchpad crashes at Launchpad’s parents looking for help. Launchpad, who has avoided visiting his family since he started working with Darkwing, returns in a panic to ensure his double isn’t causing trouble. And then it gets awkward.

Chapter 1

***

“Are we there yet? I thought you said this was supposed to be fun?”

Launchpad shook his head and grinned. “Nearly there, kiddo.” The whining should have been bugging him. But he was surprised she’d actually come. This one was much more of a troublemaker than his Gosalyn had been. Not that she hadn’t upset her adoptive father on more than one occasion, but that had always been innocently. She’d been such an odd child.

“Are you listening to me?”

“No.”

“Launchpad doesn’t ignore me.”

“I’m not your Launchpad.” The Negaverse Launchpad took one last drag on his cigarette, then stomped it out under his boot and carefully kicked dirt over it. “Look, we’re here.”

They’d come upon a derelict little shack. Behind it ran an old creek bed, all but dry in the arid weather.

Gosalyn frowned. “I’m still not impressed.”

“Man, you’re a tough little nut, aren’t you?” Launchpad booted open the rusty door, and the whole hovel rattled and shook. A single, not-quite-upright support column propped up a support beam that ran across the centre of the roof. The column visibly swayed, dust rained down from the rotting ceiling and the old kerosene lamp he’d hung up bounced around, but the shack stood firm. One day he was going to send the whole thing crashing down, and that was exactly the reason Launchpad kept booting the door in so hard. Inside was littered with fuel cans, butane canisters, a couple lengths of PVC pipe, crates of bottles and cans, some old course rope, and, of course, potatoes.

Gosalyn raised an eyebrow. “Where’s the gun? This is just a pile of trash.”

Launchpad winced. The terrible thing was she was right. He really missed his rocket launcher. He scooped up the PVC pipe and tossed it to her. “Well, you’re going to learn how to make a gun from a pile of trash. Grab the other half. I’ll get the potatoes.”

Gosalyn looked at him like he’d grown another head. But he definitely had her hooked. She grabbed the other length of pipe, and carried them both outside.

Launchpad gulped at the lump in his throat. Oh man. He was getting attached way too fast. Hanging out with Gosalyn had roused that faint feeling of guilt down inside. He’d have liked to have thought he’d gotten between his Gosalyn and Negaduck once or twice, that he’d protected her. But the truth was, despite all his faults, Negaduck would never dream of physically hurting his daughter. He had other ways of keeping her in line. Launchpad had never stood between them; he’d never had the guts. He’d just been the guy who was usually around when Negaduck got so fed up with his daughter he felt like hurting someone. At least now his Gosalyn was being looked after way better then he’d ever been capable of in Negaduck’s house. She was better off without him.

Launchpad huffed and hefted up the crate of potatoes. “Bastard.” He booted one of the butane canisters and sent it spinning out the door.

“Hey!”

“Pick it up. We need it.”

Outside, Gosalyn was trying to assemble the bits of PVC pipe, her tongue stuck out in concentration.

“Here.” Launchpad set up the pipe to form the canon, resting it on its makeshift tripod so it pointed out and over the dry creek bed. Across the other side he’d previously set up crates, bottles and cans. And, most importantly, nothing that he’d get in trouble for hurling a potato clean through.

Gosalyn was picking up on the general idea. She rifled through the crate of potatoes, picked a good sized one, and rolled it down the tube. Then she scowled. “How’s a bit of plastic supposed to fire a potato?”

Launchpad picked up the tin of butane and spun it around so Gosalyn could see the ‘caution: flammable’ warning on its side. “We’re going to set this. On fire.”

“You’ve really got a theme, don’t you?”

Launchpad filled the tube with gas, and sat himself behind the pipe to line her up and make sure the recoil didn’t send the whole thing spinning off. That had been pretty funny the first time he’d fired it, and Gosalyn probably would get a kick out of the whole contraption knocking him on his ass. But he wasn’t going to risk it with the child of the superhero who probably still didn’t trust him around. Satisfied everything was set up as safe as a potato gun could be, her lit her up.

The potato shot out of the tube with a pop, sailed through the air and splattered some hundred yards across the other side of the creek.

Gosalyn’s jaw dropped. “Keen gear.”

Launchpad loaded and fired off a half dozen more. Truth was the thing was impossible to aim, and he rarely had to go out to set up new targets. Still, he somehow managed to send a potato splintering through an old crate he’d set up. He broke down laughing, which really confused Gosalyn. He’d spent far too long scratching a likeness of Negaduck into that crate, but you couldn’t actually see it from this distance.

“Okay, you weirdo. If you’re going to sit there and giggle, I think that means its my turn.”

“Alright, alright. Let me get you set up. This things got a fair bit of kick. Wait…” The sound of an engine cut into the desert air. It sounded like a motorbike. Launchpad’s eyes narrowed and his fists tensed at his sides.

“Is that a motorbike? What, what is it?”

“Probably that damn kid.” Launchpad drew in a breath, and fought down the part of himself that still wanted to deal with any annoyance with as much force as possible. He’d kept it at bay last time, even if Mrs McQuack hadn’t been entirely happy when he’d told her what happened. “I caught him riding on the McQuack’s property a few weeks ago. When I told him to clear off, he back-chatted me. So I fired a potato in his general direction. I think he got the message.”

Now, he was going to have to find some other way to deal with the situation. Mrs McQuack had told him off, despite the fact he’d made it clear he hadn’t actually fired the potato straight at the brat. She hadn’t made him do anything dumb like go apologise, but she’d told him not to fire projectiles at or near people again. Especially kids. “At least, I thought he got the message.” Launchpad shielded his eyes as he searched for the machine. It was familiar, but now he wasn’t sure it was that same kid’s bike.

“Fill her up. Check. Aim. Light her up!”

Launchpad didn’t realise what Gosalyn was doing until the PVC pipe let out a decidedly louder than normal pop. The slam of an impact and splintering wood followed a split second later.

Launchpad spun around. “Shit!”

The PVC pipe bounced and rattled along the ground then rolled to rest. Gosalyn slumped against the side of the shack where she’d been thrown, one of the brittle boards cracked and splintered behind her head.

“No, no, no…” Launchpad skidded to his knees beside her and gently shook her shoulders. “Kiddo?”

The motorbike rattled up behind him and the engine shuddered off. Even a bratty kid would help. And if he didn’t, he could donate his bike to getting Gosalyn back to the house as quick as possible.

“Oh. Wow. Nice job. She’s been here, what, three hours? I can’t believe I used to let you babysit. In fact, I can’t believe you’re still alive.”

Launchpad’s chest tightened; he couldn’t breathe. His vision grew fuzzy around the edges. All he could focus on was his trembling hands and how they engulfed Gosalyn’s tiny shoulders. Gosalyn. Launchpad finally managed to suck in a gasp of air, and the oxygen cleared his head. He couldn’t let him hurt this Gosalyn. Launchpad gathered every ounce of his strength and turned to face the voice from his past.

“You ran away from me too, didn’t you?” Negaduck. He was right. There. His yellow and black motorcycle behind him, and Launchpad wondered how he’d ever mistaken its sound for a dirt bike. “So much for loyalty.”

“What are you doing here?” Launchpad’s voice grated and caught in his throat.

“I tailed that idiot Darkwing Duck. Figured I could have a little fun out here.” Negaduck’s beak split into a wide grin. “But this is a surprise. Where’ve you been, buddy?”

“I was never your buddy. You have to leave. Now.” His voice sounded weak, pathetic. Even to his own ears.

Negaduck laughed. “Oh, someone definitely ran away, didn’t they?” The cackle cut off just as quickly, then Negaduck was right on top of him, grabbing him by the collar, pressing his beak against his. “You don’t tell me what to do!”

Launchpad stumbled back under the unexpected weight and his heart-rate rocketed. He shoved Negaduck off and threw up his guard. “Don’t touch me!”

Negaduck raised his hands and took a step back, chuckling. “Someone’s developed a backbone.”

“You can’t. Be here. You’re whole deal is Saint Canard, and Darkwing Duck, and… you can’t mess with the McQuacks. They’re good people. They don’t live in a place like Saint Canard. They can’t deal with all this superhero and villain stuff.”

“The McQuacks, huh?” Negaduck stroked his beak, completely ignoring the fact Launchpad was squared up like he wanted to fight. “Oh, you idiot, what have you been doing? Playing happy little families? This isn’t your world, you know.”

“Never stopped you from trying to take it over.”

Negaduck flung his arms wide. “That’s because I’m ambitious. But now, there’s an idea. Messing with a cute innocent country family whilst Darkwing Duck tries to protect them? Could be fun.”

“Negaduck, don’t.”

“Come on, Launchpad. You know it will be. I know I usually left you in charge of the home front. But, seeing as you’re here, why don’t we both have a little fun?”

“You have got to be kidding me.”

Negaduck waggled his eyebrows. “I’ll let you fly my aeroplane.”

The faintest hint of a thrill rose in Launchpad’s chest. He was actually letting him… And then, slowly, he lowered his fists. “I… I can’t believe I let you take that away from me. I’ve got plenty of aeroplanes I can fly now. And the people who own them don’t tease me with them, and make me feel like I have to earn every last little shred of respect!”

“Been behaving yourself, have you? Got them fooled? Please. What do you think they’ll think about this?” He pointed a finger at Gosalyn. “Or this?” And jabbed his thumb back into his own chest. “As soon as they see who you really are they won’t be so forgiving.”

“Darkwing’s here.”

“Yeah, and you just knocked out his daughter. Listen up, Launchpad. I’m giving you a choice. As soon as your little surrogate family realises I’m here, they’re going to start asking questions. They’re going to think you called me, or at least that taking you in was what brought this tragedy down upon them…”

“You leave them alone.”

“Maybe I will. I’d rather cause my havoc at night anyway, so I’ll give you until sunset. Then, you’re going to come back to this sad little shack and you’re going to tell me you’re ready to help me take down Darkwing Duck. In return, I’ll let these good, kind people get away with simply the scare of me slaughtering a superhero in their back garden. Or, you oppose me, or tell Darkwing I’m here, and if that happens…” Negaduck cackled. “I’ll burn this whole place to the ground, along with any soul unfortunate enough to get in my way!”

Launchpad’s fists shook at his sides. Grab him now. Tie him up. Beat him to a pulp. He’s half your size! All those thoughts bounced around in his head. But he didn’t move. “Negaduck, please don’t.”

Negaduck threw a leg over his motorcycle and started her up. “Think about it, old pal. It really would be fun causing chaos with you again.” Then he gunned the engine, skidded around so the bike threw up a wave of dirt, and tore away.

As soon as the motorcycle disappeared over the nearest rise, Launchpad’s knees buckled. His back slammed into the old shack besides Gosalyn and he put his face in his hands. “Aw, kid. What am I supposed to do?” He fished the packet of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket, and fumbled to push out a single one so he could grab hold of it. The simple task was almost impossible.

Gosalyn shot to her feet. “I knew I needed to keep an eye on you!”

“Shit!” The packet jumped from Launchpad’s hands and cigarettes scattered everywhere. “Damn it, kid. I thought you’d really hurt yourself.”

Gosalyn put her hands on her hips. “Don’t play games with me. I saw you talking to Negaduck! You’re still working for him, aren’t you?”

Launchpad’s heart plummeted. “No! I didn’t even know he was here, I swear.”

“A likely… story…” Gosalyn blinked a couple of times, then sat down heavily.

“Aw, man, you’re not okay, are you?” Launchpad reached out for her.

Gosalyn swiped a hand in front of her face. “Back off, buster.”

He could’ve scooped her up and there would be nothing she could do about it, but Launchpad paused in his advance. “You hit you’re head. I just want to check you’re okay.” He reached out for her again, slowly, and she lowered her hand. He felt her head. There was no blood, but he thought he could feel a decent sized bump.

Gosalyn tolerated it for a second, then slapped at his hand. “Ow, stop.”

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Two.” She frowned up at him. “Your hands are shaking.”

Launchpad swallowed hard. “I’m not working for Negaduck. Please believe me. He was just… there. He said if I didn’t help him he’d hurt the McQuacks. What am I supposed to do?” Suddenly, nothing seemed as important as this kid believing him. He didn’t know what else to say to convince her.

“I must’ve really hit my head… okay. He must’ve followed us from Saint Canard. Maybe we should tell Dad.”

“No! We can’t. If I tell Darkwing, Negaduck’s going to hurt the McQuacks. I have to deal with this myself. And if the McQuacks find out…” If he lost their trust, he didn’t know he could take it. No wonder this world’s Launchpad had been so angry with him when he arrived. It didn’t matter that he’d changed. He’d dragged trouble right along with him. Launchpad hung his head. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

Gosalyn leaned over and swiped her knuckles into his arm. It was a terrible punch, and he was sure she could’ve done better had she not been semi out of it. “Come on. Where would you be if you hadn’t crashed in their front yard?”

Not causing trouble for innocent families for sure. Launchpad stood to his feet and held out a hand. “Can you get up?”

Gosalyn pushed herself to shaky feet and grabbed onto his arm.

“Right, I’d better carry you.”

“You are not carrying me like a baby.”

“I’m not letting you walk.”

“Hang on. Crouch down.”

Launchpad did as she instructed. Gosalyn managed to make a little jump, and hook her arms around his neck. Launchpad hefted her up in a piggy back, making sure he had his arms under her in case she passed out again and lost her grip. He started heading back to the house. “You’re not going to tell your Dad about Negaduck, right?”

“Okay fine. But you have to do something for me first.”

Despite his apprehension, Launchpad rolled his eyes. This kid was something else. “I’m not letting you play with the potato gun again. But, go on, anything else. What do you want?”

“I know Negaduck’s not a nice guy. But you’re terrified of him. What did he do to you? Launchpad told me about him making you burn your planes, but, you know, what else?”

Launchpad’s guts tightened. “Aw, man, kid. You don’t pull any punches do you?”

“If someone scared my Launchpad that bad… well, that’s why I was so mad at you.”

“Okay, okay…” There was plenty to choose from. Some he certainly wouldn’t share with a kid. But neither did Launchpad want to downplay her question by choosing something like Negaduck getting way too competitive about playing punchies, which had never really bothered him at all. And then he thought about his own Gosalyn. “It wasn’t just me he was a jerk to…”

***

“Come on, Negaduck. Are you sure you’re not going a bit overboard?”

“Stop whining,” Negaduck grumbled as he balanced on Launchpad’s shoulders so he could tie his minion’s wrists to the branch above. The dying tree in Negaduck’s backyard couldn’t take his weight, so they’d just settled for stringing him up to it with his feet still on the ground. “You’re the idiot who let her keep talking about getting a pink pinata for her birthday. Honestly, I leave you two alone for five minutes…”

“You beat a pinata with a stick! I thought you wanted her to find something violent to enjoy? Sounds like violence to me.”

“She wants a pink pony pinata because its supposed to have candy inside. Urgh. I don’t want any daughter of mine getting candy for her birthday. By this age, I expect her to ask me for a butterfly knife or something.” Negaduck finished his knot, then leapt back to the ground. “If she wants to hit something with a stick the only thing she should enjoy getting out of it is blood and teeth.” He scooped up the rolled up bit of cardboard that had come with the pinata Gosalyn thought she was getting, and thumped Launchpad heavily on the chest with it.

Launchpad grinned. “Heh. Yeah. That’s always fun. I’m glad she won’t be knocking anything out with that flimsy piece of trash though. But we’ve got to start her somewhere, right?”

“Oh, yeah of course.” Negaduck dug amongst the smashed paper mache they’d already destroyed in the corner of the yard, and came up with a handful of colourful candy, and a pink ribbon. “Now, hold still.”

“I don’t want that thing in my hair… wha…”

Negaduck rammed the candy, wrappers and all, into Launchpad’s beak, then trussed it up with the pink ribbon. “That’s much better.” He grinned, patted Launchpad on his bulging check, then screamed: “Gosalyn! Get your butt out here. It’s pinata time!”

Gosalyn stumbled out of the house in her pink party dress, blindfolded. She grinned madly as she swayed across the yard like a drunk man. “Dad! Can I at least see the pinata first?”

“What? And break the pinata rules?” Negaduck winked at Launchpad. Then he hurled the rolled up piece of cardboard over the Muddlefoot’s fence. “Won’t be needing this!” He reached into the pile of paper mache and pulled out an aluminium baseball bat.

Launchpad shuffled back. “Nefadufck…” he mumbled around the plastic mixed with sickly sweet goop in his mouth.

“Stay where you are, Launchpad!” Negaduck barked.

Launchpad jerked to a halt at the order.

“What?” said Gosalyn. “What’s he doing?”

“Being pushy. You know how he likes smashing thing. But you’re the party girl; so you get to go first.” Negaduck shoved the bat into Gosalyn’s hands and adjusted her grip. He pointed her to face Launchpad.

Gosalyn tapped the bat on Launchpad’s hip.

“Higher, sweetheart. If you want it to spill, you need to hit it right in the guts.” Negaduck leaned forward, hand on his daughter’s shoulder, a wicked grin splitting his beak.

Gosalyn adjusted her grip. All the practice Launchpad had with her in the back yard was paying off; her swing was perfect. The bat slammed up under his ribs. Launchpad dropped. The flimsy bough broke under his weight and snapped in half on impact across his back. Launchpad doubled over as bile leapt up his throat and mixed with the gunk in his mouth. He spluttered and gagged and couldn’t get air, and then the flimsy pink ribbon popped and the whole mess spilled out on the browning lawn.

Gosalyn ripped her blindfold off. No way she could’ve been fooled that impact had been with paper mache. The bat clattered to the ground at her side.

“Gosalyn… I’m… kay…” Launchpad said, then sagged back down with a wheeze.

Gosalyn’s eyes filled with tears. “Launchpad, I’m sorry.” She bolted back into the house.

Negaduck cackled. “Happy birthday, sweetheart!”

Launchpad spat, then pushed himself to his knees, a hand still to his belly.

Negaduck grabbed him by the collar. “Next time, I expect you to talk her out of this kind of garbage before I have to get involved. I can find someone much bigger than a little girl to take a swing at you.” He hauled him to his feet and flung him towards the house. “Now go ask her if she wants cake!”

***

He’d carried Gosalyn almost all the way back to the house now. Launchpad gulped and adjusted his grip underneath her. Between Darkwing Duck and the McQuacks, he really didn’t know how this would pan out.

“You can put me down now.”

Launchpad let her slip off his back. She grabbed him around the waist and hugged him tight.

“Hey… what?”

“I’m sorry, Launchpad. I knew Negaduck was a jerkface, but… I won’t tell my Dad. And I’ll help you take care of Negaduck.”

“Heh.” Launchpad prised her off him. “Let’s just make sure you’re okay first.”

***

Drake had paced the porch for the last half hour. His only consolation, despite Birdie’s assurances that the Negaverse Launchpad was harmless, was that it was highly unlikely he had kidnapped his daughter. Gosalyn would have taken off with him simply because she knew her father wouldn’t like it.

Finally, he saw her coming down the front path, Launchpad’s double trailing almost right behind her. Drake cleared the front steps and rushed to meet his daughter. “Gosalyn, don’t go running off like that!”

He knew something was wrong when Gosalyn looked up at him, not ready for an argument, but with relief. And then she slumped into his arms. Drake clamped her tight to her chest. His gaze snapped up to the Negaverse Launchpad, and the only thing that stopped him from slamming a fist into his face was supporting his daughter. “What did you do?” he hissed.

“Dad, it’s okay,” said Gosalyn, though she still clung to him. “It’s not his fault. I was being stupid and I fell over.”

Launchpad shuffled a boot through the dirt. “She hit her head. I’m sorry. I thought I was watching her.” The subdued moment was just so… Launchpad, that it gave Drake pause. His buddy’s double actually felt bad about this. So he should, but still.

Leaning on the porch railing beside his wife, Ripcord went rigid. “Wait, she hit her head?” He paled several shades. “I’ll… doctor…” He bolted back inside so quickly the door slammed into the wall and the front windows rattled.

Birdie winced. “Rip! It’s okay, she’s conscious…” She hung her head in resignation. “Great. We’re going to have the entirety of the town’s medical staff here in ten minutes. I thought we were past this.”

Drake scooped Gosalyn up, despite her half-hearted protestations, threw a glare at Launchpad’s double, and followed Birdie inside. His heart still thudded in his chest, but it was steadily slowing. He wasn’t sure how mad he was supposed to be at the Negaverse Launchpad. I mean, he’d be mad at Launchpad if he’d let something like this happen, but he wouldn’t hold it against him. He wasn’t surprised Gosalyn had gone and down something dumb. It wasn’t the first time.

“Yes, send them now!” Ripcord growled into the phone.

Birdie, put a hand on his arm. “Ripcord, calm down. Here…” She took the phone off him. “Yes, she’s conscious. But if you could send one of the doctors over that’d be great.” She hung up, then turned back to her husband and grasped his hands. “Are you alright?”

“Better safe than sorry,” Ripcord grumbled.

Launchpad pushed past them, not making eye contact with anyone, and went into the kitchen.

Drake took Gosalyn into the living room, put her down onto the sofa and rearranged the cushions around her.

“Dad, I’m fine.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure you are. Although, its not the first time you’ve given yourself a concussion.” He squeezed her shoulder. “That head of yours is nearly as hard as Launchpad’s. You’ll be fine.”

“My son does not have a hard head,” said Ripcord. “And neither does your daughter! You don’t know what happened to her; it could be serious. How can you be so blase about your own child…”

Drake saw red. He whirled and stabbed a finger into Ripcord’s chest. “I think I know whether my daughter needs medical attention or not, thank you very much!”

Although Drake had intended to give him a good prod in the chest, he found himself pointing just above the man’s belly button. Ripcord glared down at him, and then his shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry. I was just trying to help.”

Drake lowered his hand. “I… yeah, I know. Thanks for, you know, being so on the ball and calling the doctor. Sorry, I overreacted.”

Ripcord smiled tightly. “Hey, its fine, I get it. I have kids too, remember?” He turned to Birdie. “How long ago did we call?”

“Speaking of kids,” said Birdie. “I heard one of our planes come back over. Launchpad might be back in the hanger. You should go talk to him. He’ll be in a better mood after taking a plane out.”

“Yeah, but…”

Birdie patted his arm.“Not your kid. We’ll handle it. You know you’ll just get underfoot.”

“Probably,” Ripcord huffed. He glanced one last time at Gosalyn, then headed out the front door.

Launchpad came back from the kitchen with a glass of water and took it to Gosalyn. Drake snatched it off him, then handed it over to her.

“Dad, really?”

“I don’t know what you two were up to,” he said, voice low. “But you are not going out together unsupervised again!”

***

Chapter 5

#darkwing duck #darkwing #darkwing fanfiction #darkwing duck fanfiction #dwd #dwd91 #darkwing duck 1991 #nega launchpad #negalaunchpad #gosalyn mallard #drake mallard #ripcord mcquack #birdie mcquack #negaduck #disney ducks

[kewltie]

content warning: vampire, master/servant contract

“Um.” Izuku stares down at his hand.

A deep red streak runs across it, blood pooling around the open wound. It’s just a cut. A meaninglessness cut of all things and normally, this isn’t a problem but, unfortunately, he doesn’t exactly fall under the purview of that harmless word.

There’s a flurry of panicked activity around him. Someone presses a clean towel into his injured palm, another picks up the dropped knife from the floor, and the rest hover anxiously around him. Izuku is the clumsy fool, but his club mates are now bearing the consequence of his folly.

The bleeding doesn’t stop even when the kitchen towel is drowned in a pool of Izuku’s own blood. Someone hand him another fresh towel, but it won’t be long before that too would be soaked through inch by inch like a band aid placed over the crack of a dam; a valiant but ultimately foolish attempt.

It won’t hold.

It’s a shallow cut, but Izuku is bred to bleed easily and heavily like an untapped spring of blood; he’s blood doll born for this single purpose, to bleed and feed his, well, to dedicate his entire being to Bakugou Katsuki. Katsuki protects him from other feeders, and Izuku gives himself to Katsuki only. It’s a covenant of their ancestors, several hundred years in the making; one neither of them have any hope of breaking.

Even if it’s an accident, this is a waste of resource. His mother would lecture him for being so careless with his body, when it’s used to keep these bloody beasts tame. 

Since young, he was taught under the tutelage of his mother, the kin of the Head of the Bakugou Clan, that single drop of his blood can’t leave his body lest it’s for Young Master Katsuki and Katsuki only. His blood is precious and a traded commodity. It’s Izuku’s own personal weapon and if he knows how to wield carefully, it can move mountains and even sway the devil.

And this, he flexes his injured palm as blood continues seep through another towel already, is why it is so valuable. Not that Izuku would know because he’s failed blood doll. Katsuki hadn’t fed from him since the first bloodshedding many years ago, refusing to feed from Izuku and only him and leaving Izuku more than a little hurt and confused.

“Hurry and clean up all the blood already!” Uemura Riko, the Cooking Club President, instructs her members with a snappish tone, looking frazzled despite her usual calm demeanor. “Someone get me a first aid kit now! We don’t want an angry mob of vamps knocking through our door.”

Izuku frowns, looking up from his hand. “Kacchan isn’t a mob.”

Uemera gives him a look. “Your leech is equal to ten angry mob. I don’t want the heir to one of the last pureblood vampire clans to be breathing down my neck because you slipped and accidentally cut your hand.”

When she put it like that it sounds reasonable enough, but it’s already too late for them.

They say a shark can scent a drop of blood in the ocean from miles away; it’s a myth, but he knows another and more terrifying animal that can do that and more. Katsuki may hate the taste of Izuku, but Izuku is his kin and he will answer the blood call.

Always.

Izuku knows this. He knows Katsuki even before he hear the pounding of his footsteps and the door is violently flung open; it hinges giving under to the force of his palpable anger. Now, standing in the doorway in all his infuriating glory is Bakugou Katsuki.

Blood-red eyes sets alight like twin flames in front of them. “Deku,” says Katsuki, a low guttural noise that sounds like a half-mad and starving beast. He strides in silence and careful like he’s stalking a prey. His piercing red eyes zeroes in on Izuku’s bloody hand right away.

Everyone in the room takes several anxious steps back and huddle together, making themselves small and unobtrusive lest they attract the attention of the beast in their midst. The terror radiates off of them in waves as they try to subdue their quiet panic.

Not that it could do much because Katsuki could easily scent their terror.

For the last couple of centuries, vampires have been a known entity in this world and integrated into society, but there’s something wild and fantastical about them that keeps them apart. Perhaps it’s the superior senses and abilities or their strange haunting beauty, but there is real fear nestle under the country’s carefully protected laws. It’s human’s nature to be afraid of the unknown, but what does it say about Izuku who feels a different kind of pulsing heartbeat for Katsuki?

Izuku, a walking and breathing vampire’s bloodbag, just gives a short, sheepish little wave with uninjured hand. “H-hi, Kacchan,” he says, wincing. He’s in so much trouble.

“Deku,” Katsuki says again pointedly, marching toward him with his fangs flashing menacingly. Power and threat embody each step he takes like a true king in the making.

Izuku feels all the blood reversing course from his palm to his head, flooding his cheeks as his heart pounds to a deafening beat. This is not fear, he knows. Izuku was raised in the cradled of these beautiful beasts and had learned since young to embrace their bloodlust.

It’s something else.

Something far deadlier than fear. It coils around his heart, pricking at him every time when Katsuki ignore him and won’t partake in feeding on him, telling him that Izuku is neither worthy of his time or attention and his blood driving Katsuki away in disgust.

“You fucking idiot!” Katsuki hisses, standing before him with barely controlled fury. “I only left you alone for an hour and here you are tempting all the other bloodsuckers in a ten-mile radius to feed on you and suck you dry!”

Izuku blinks, taken back for a moment. “Does that include you?” he asks hopefully. Oh, how I want to be eaten by Kacchan, so says the stupid lamb to the lion.

#bakudeku #vampire catnip!izuku au #fic snippet #welp i am weak OK

[doingthingsthewriteway]

Thorns

Summary: A tale as old as time. Dom stumbled upon a castle and perhaps something more. (will be a series) 

Warning: some language, it’s a slow ass burn y’all 

The legend was a juicy one, so juicy many an author had taken time to transcribe their own version of the tale. Some were incredibly far-fetched, others took a strict moral approach. Those who know the in parties involved agree the events occurred in a similar manner. 

Long ago in the English country side, a small kingdom sprang up. The castle was idyllic, with sweeping rose gardens and stables, ivy crawling up the towers, and a lavish ballroom for parties. Known for a variety of goods that grew just a bit too magically, the kingdom prospered. Magic was not unreasonable in the kingdom and served as a comfort, especially as protection from the restless wolves that lurked beyond the castle walls. 

Still, life was pleasant and just until the princess came of age. Perhaps it was the philosophy she took to reading, or the endless days bemoaning to the kitchen staff, but Y/N simply could not believe she was expected to get married at the tender age of 16. It was disgusting. Damn near revolting and illegal. 

So when the royal ball brought conquests from around the world to try and whoo her, they all failed. One by one she rejected every prince (and the occasional princess) in their hand in marriage. Most took the rejection with stride or at the very least were so royally cold it did not matter that is until one rather evil prince (speculation was his name was Loki and remained second in line to the throne) was rejected. 

“You pathetic quim. Any girl would consider it an honor to marry me in Asgard.” He hissed like a snake, moving around her as she tried to cross the floor. 

“Then leave.” She stepped onto the throne, overlooking all of the hall. “Anyone who shares his sentiment may leave as well.” 

“If you so desperately want to be alone, alone with the wolves for eternity you shall be.” 

All at once, Loki brandished a staff, twirling it around his head as a beam of green light struck the fair princess in her chest. Amidst the chaos the crowd fled, leaving a collapsed Y/N in the arms of the king and queen and the staff. 

“Send for the witch!” The queen shrieked, a notable lack of concern for her daughter present. A curse one was a curse on all. 

Ashley arrived wearing a cloak that disguised the beauty beneath. For hours she tended to the young princess, doing her best to reverse the spell. In the end, she managed to alter things just enough that hopefully the young princess would have some time. In good faith and service, she remained in the castle which would come to be a blessing as the young beauty would soon become a beast. 

----

Many years later, a musician woke from his slumber with a stretch. He rubbed his eyes and stifled a yawn as he rushed to get dressed for the day. Today, Dominic Harrison was going to make it big. The village could just suck it. If he didn’t, he supposed he could return to the small minded village and marry a simple small minded girl, but that was hardly Plan B. 

Kissing his mother and father, he loaded the cart and hitched his horse. His younger sisters rushed out to hug him farewell, housecoats billowing behind them. “You were going to leave without saying goodbye!” They accused. 

“Me? Never. I was just letting my girls rest.” He pinched a cheek and nose for good measure. “Now, what do my darlings want me to bring back for them?Crepes? Biscuits? A puppy?”

“A rose!” 

He smiled his crooked smile. “Those are my favorite, why don’t you pick something else?” 

“Biscuits then, but get a rose for you.” 

Dom couldn’t believe he was so blessed with such a loving family and such darling sisters. He did intend on expanding his family one day, he just hoped it would be with someone as loving as he. 

With his final goodbyes, he mounted his horse and headed off. He had made the journey plenty of times in 22 years, no doubt this time would be any different. This thought would soon prove naive as a storm swept in, his horse tossing him off and running straight toward the castle gates. 

Running to catch up with his beloved pet, Dom heard the howls began to echo through the woods. With a strangled cry of frustration, he met up at the gates with his horse, holding the reign in his hands. 

“Please!” He wasn’t sure what he was begging for. The royal family weren’t exactly the most helpful or kind bunch from what he had heard in his lifetime. Dom shook the rusting gates, the thought hitting him he didn’t know when the last time the gates had been opened. 

A low creak pushed the rusting gates open just enough for him and his horse to squeeze on through. Kissing the Saint Christopher that hung from his neck, Dom led his horse inside the gates. The rusted metal clanged shut trapping him in. 

“Don’t worry, bubba, we’ll be alright.” He assured, stroking his horses mane as they ventured up the drive to the castle. “Look, there’s a stable for ya.” 

Leading bubba into the stable, the horse whinnied happily entering a stall with plenty of hay and water. “You stay here, I’m going to see if I can get some shelter.”

Soaked to his core, he trudged on to the castle, stopping only briefly to smell the roses that grew in twisted  knots on a trellis. How beautiful they were, he was certain his sisters would love one. 

He plucked a red one off the vine. “How delightful.” 

“Who goes there?” 

Dom jumped in fright, turning quickly to find a short young woman, arms crossed. A cloak covered her head which paired with long tendrils of hair covered her face. “Please, I mean no harm. I just got lost, the storm spooked my horse and I-”

“So you steal a rose?” How cold Dom felt in her presence. “Guards!” 

A small army dressed in faded tunics baring the royal arms surrounded him and ceased his arms, struggling he was carried down into the depths of the castle. 

----

“Princess? Perhaps it might be wise to offer our guest a room of his own?”

 The question was posed by Harry, one of the most faithful members of the staff. Once upon a time he sang for the crown at parties and balls, now he kept the castle a foot and kept Y/N company in her chamber. He was not usually so bold in his distaste of her actions, though he was always quite kind. 

“Harry, I said no.” Y/N turned her back to him and focused her attention once more on the wilting rose that remained encased in glass on her balcony. 

“But what if-”

“But nothing!” She had turned cold in her isolation, her view of the world tainted by such loneliness, her view of men tainted with the oppression they caused (except for Harry it wasn’t his fault, nothing ever was). “Besides, who could ever love me?” The list of reasons to not were ever growing. 

Harry crossed the room in two brief strides, his professional guard dropping as he scooped her into his arms. “Y/N, don’t think like that. We all love you and if I could break it, you know I would.” 

Tears fell onto the glass dome encasing the rose as the two fell into silence. Once Y/N curled up into a ball and fell into fitful sleep, Harry grabbed a candle stick and rushed into the prisons. 

The chill made his teeth chatter as he tsked under his breath. “Princess’ll learn one of these days, only way somebody’s gonna love her is if she’s fucking nice.” He continued his grumbling as he reached the cells. 

Drawing out his keys, he unlocked the cell revealing a strapping young lad that reminded him of himself when he first arrived at the castle. “Hello mate, I’d like to offer my most sincere apologies for the treatment you have received up until now.”

“Pop your clogs.” Dom spat, squinting his eyes at the stranger. Under any other circumstance, literally any other one, he would be jumping the tall man’s bones because damn he was pretty. 

“Well that’s not very nice at all.” Harry quipped unlocking the cell door and holding it open. 

“You arrest people for picking a bloody rose around here?” 

A harsh look clouded the servants face, eyes turning sharp. “Some suffer eternal damnation for one.” Um, what the fuck? Dom thought. “Unless you would like to spend the night freezing down here, I suggest you follow me.” 

Sucking in a bated breath he decided he had one option and that was to follow the stranger. Harry flashed a dimpled grin, “Name’s Harry. The delightful princess you met earlier is her royal highness Y/N.”

“She’s a peach.” Dom scoffed keeping his stride in time with Harry’s, a frown lacing the other man’s face. 

“Things were not always like this.”

“What happened?”

Harry shook his head, leading him into one of the many unused guest chambers. “Nothing you need to worry your little head about right now. For now, dry off and rest we cannot have our guest getting ill.” 

Now, Dom wasn’t entirely sure he was a guest, or at the very least a willing guest, but he desperately wanted warmth and to sleep so he complied. He found robes of the finest silk and immediately thought of how much his mum and sisters would love the extravagance of it all. 

It was the first time he cried to go home. 

#Dominic Harrison imagine #Dominic Harrison imagines #Dominic Harrison x reader #yungblud imagine #yungblud imagines #yungblud x reader #Dominic Harrison au! #dom Harrison imagine #yungblud au #Dom Harrison au #beauty and the beast au

[darlingsdevil]

The Ballads of Rebirth (Arthur Morgan x Reader)

Chapter 3: “Mrs. Morgan”

Masterlist

•••

A/N: thank you all so much for the support! This is the most I’ve ever written in three days, all three parts were written within 12 hours of the last! I’d love to hear more feedback from you guys. And btw, this story is def gonna be more like 10 chapters long haha.

•••

“I’m fine, Charles. I am, now let me go out hunting, you know I’m just as deadly with a rifle as you are with a bow.”

“I know, but we’re bow hunting, it’d be like bringing an elephant into the woods and telling it to go sneak up on someone.” Charles pushed Arthur’s chest into the bed, he fell back with a thud.

“It’s only because you’re still sick. In a couple weeks, I’ll take you out hunting with me, but until then you’re staying here.” And with that, Charles promptly walked out of the tent leaving Arthur annoyed in his bed.

Arthur hated everyone treating him like he was a baby, and he already always hated people fretting over him in general. You would have laughed at everyone’s attentiveness towards Arthur’s health, while Arthur could do little but just sit there and look pretty.

He missed you more and more everyday, Charles and Mahala could see the longing for you in his eyes, it was heartbreaking to watch. Mahala knew nothing of you, Arthur’s past was a mystery, but by the way Arthur spoke she knew he was missing his other half, like a record player that could not play any music.

Even if he missed you, Arthur promised himself he wouldn’t search for you until he was better, which could take many more months.

Mahala estimated it would take around three more months to fully recover if he didn’t relapse. In three more months you could be on the opposite side of the country, it would take so much longer to find you. But he eventually would, he would begin that journey when he was ready.

Arthur was slowly gaining weight if he were to prepare for his journey he would need to first maintain a decent weight. His fevers left him with little appetite but Mahala had kept him on a reliable diet that he could usually keep down. Rabbit that Charles hunted, wheat bread and carrots and peppers. Mahala was a good cook, so Arthur never got bored of his daily food.

It was early in the morning, Mahala usually brought his breakfast in at nine, but she always visited before that. She’d tell him stories of her youth which were surprisingly interesting,her stories were the only thing keeping Arthur sane. He never liked sitting around and being lazy like Uncle, but listening to a story wasn’t exactly just sitting around. Mahala had lots of stories, fables and legends, it always kept him intrigued.

When seven rolled around, and Charles had long been gone, Arthur could hear Mahala’s cheerful humming from outside the tent.

“Rise and shine, my son.” She said, ripping open the tents opening.

“G’morning Mahala. Sleep well?” Arthur mumbled, attempting to sound sleepy. Mahala always got angry when Arthur didn’t sleep in, since he rarely ever slept and if he did it was for very short periods of time.

Mahala gave Arthur a knowing look, turning away from him. She pulled a small vial out of her bag, Arthur groaned. Medicine.

“It’s your favorite,” she said in a sing songy voice, putting some on a spoon. Arthur grabbed the spoon from her nimble hands. He shoved the spoon in his mouth. It was bitter and awful and he nearly choked on it every time.

“Swallow it.” She said sternly, glaring at him. He obliged and felt the viscous liquid fall down his throat. It was his least favorite part of Mahala’s visits, minus the coughing fits and fevers.

She sat down next to Arthur’s bed, setting her bag down next to her. Glass vials clinked in her leather bag, it was old and worn and held lots of medicine for Arthur. He wasn’t sure what he took everyday, never bothering to ask, even if he did, he wouldn’t understand it. It was some sort of herbal mixture, but tasted like it was left out in the sun for hours and had turned rancid.

“Today I want to hear a story from you.” Mahala began after she noticed Arthur had drank the medicine.

It felt like the air had been sucked from his lungs, something he had unfortunately become accompanied with in the last few months. She had never asked of his past. He hadn’t even prepared an answer, expecting . Even if he knew he would never lie to Mahala, knowing she could see through it instantly, he could still avoid the full truth.

“A story about me?” He asked with a light chuckle, sitting up. Mahala nodded.

“Well I’m not that interesting. I ain’t got much to tell.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something.” She told him.

He thought for a moment, deciding what was the safest to tell, interesting but not risky. She eyed the small gold band on his finger, the only thing besides Charles that anchored him to his past.

“Tell me about her.”

“You wanna know about Mrs. Morgan?”

“Yes. You’ve never spoken of her. Was she dull? Is that why you’ve never talked about her?” Mahala tilted her head in humorous curiosity.

“No, no, she’s far from dull.” He laughed, shaking his head. A small smile splayed on Mahala’s lips.

“She was wonderful, kind and beautiful. A compassionate heart, but boy, if you got her mad you’d better be praying.” Mahala listened to every word he said.

“Once.. once I’d forgotten to lay my socks out to dry and gotten sick from it, she didn’t let me rest for one minute. She was fuming, but she still kept care of me.” It had been years ago, long before either of you had confessed your feelings but he remembered it like it was yesterday. It felt good to speak about you, like a large weight had been pulled off of his chest. He felt lighter.

Mahala laughed at the story, she had never been married, claiming a man could not handle her ideas. A pang of happiness struck her heart, Arthur was like her son, and to see him be open and smile around her was wonderful, but she could still tell he was keeping the full truth from her.

“It seems like she was good for you.”

“Yeah, I think she is.”

“My, my child. Is she alive or dead? You speak of her in different pretenses, I cannot tell.” Mahala, ever the curious cat was incredibly broad, perhaps too broad for her own good.

Arthur let out a heavy sigh, not realizing he’d been holding it in this entire conversation.

“I’m not too sure to be honest. We got separated a few days before Charles found me, Charles doesn’t seem to know where she went. She could be halfway across the country or six feet in the ground by now.”

Mahala pursed her lips tightly.

“You’ll find her, lovers always find a way back to each other.”

“Don’t give me that sappy stuff, Mahala. The world don’t work like that.”

“Believe what you will, but I’m sure you’ll find her. I can see the love in your eyes for her.”

Arthur had heard that from Hosea on the night he proposed to you, after you had gone to bed for the evening and Arthur was still up drinking with the few men who were still awake in celebration. It was right before everything went to shit, and the entire gang was forced out of Blackwater. It was only him, Hosea, Dutch and John who were awake, the true Van der Linde family, the only missing piece was you. Drunk Arthur didn’t remember much of the rest of the night besides that one comment.

“I see your love for her in your eyes. They twinkle more, it’s like you’re finally seeing the bigger picture. A love like that can’t be broken by death, and god knows death comes quickly and often in this life.”

•••

“Lee, can you pick that up for me?” You pointed towards a can of green beans that had fallen down, since you were at the cash register helping a rather moody customer.

“Yes, Ma’am.” He picked up the green beans, and instantly returned to restocking. Lee had been acting strange all day, he avoided your eye and spoke to you only when talked to first. It wasn’t like him at all. You were sure it had something to do with your kiss on the cheek last night. You smiled at the thought of him becoming weak at just a peck on the cheek, it was how Arthur used to be as well at the beginning of your relationship.

Today had been awful, two customers had yelled at you for running out of items and one, you realized later, had stolen multiple cans of food. The general store was already hurting after a newer one had been put up. It was a chain store, so everyone wanted to go see what all the fuss was about. You hadn’t told Lee about the crook who took the food, and you were still deciding if you were going to. You had stolen food countless times while in the gang, it felt so much worse when you were on the opposing end.

When the shop finally closed, it was just you and Lee again. He was still nervous to be around you, moving to the opposite side of the room to ‘sweep’ when you moved closer to him.

Around ten minutes after being closed, he cleared his throat. You look up at him, putting the money you were counting on the glass shelf.

He stared at you with big brown eyes.

“Can I take you on a date, Mrs. Morgan?” Lee asked you with sudden confidence.

You froze for a moment, you eyes staring off at the window behind him. For a second, you thought you saw Arthur, standing there behind Lee.

“I’ll take you down to the restaurant, the one that just opened by the pier,” Lee’s sudden confidence was destroyed by your silence.

You liked him well enough, but were you really ready for that type of commitment again? Arthur was barely dead, you had mourned for him while he was living, since he had pushed you away as soon as he got sick. It was like he was a ghost the minute he had found out about his diagnosis. Arthur did his damn best to make sure you made it out okay, even if it meant pushing you away to keep you safe. Your biggest regret was not staying with him through it all, no matter his protests.

“I’d love to go with you.”

You could finally let go of Arthur, the final thing holding you back. He would have wanted you to move on, to see you happy.

And you were happy right now, you felt contempt with your life for the first time in a long time.

•••

#rdr2 #rdr2 x reader #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 angst #rdr2 fanfiction #arthur morgan x fem reader

[marxsgrandson]

“You’re not Russian, you’re just American with some Russian blood”- my Israeli PS professor (who is neither Russian nor American nor knows anything about me)

Long post ahead: read it if you’d like but mostly just hoping there’s someone else who can relate to the feelings I’m about to express. So here goes:

Had an unbelievably shitty day today.

I’m in this one political science class. It always ends up somehow ruining my mood. It’s the one with the shitty German men who confronted me in a group after class accusing me of being uncritical towards the Soviet Union, being an antisemite (lol these aryan guys were calling me an antisemite. Like they’re confirmed non-Jewish) and being a dumbass for not idk sucking Gorbachev’s dick personally would be the next leap there. Idk if I posted that here, but it’s necessary context.

Anyways today we were talking about Russia’s motive in x place and just jumping around to every unrelated topic about something about Russia because our class always gets sidetracked and never finishes the lesson we were supposed to do. And of course the Europeans were being pieces of shit.

And the prof said something like “I wish we had Russians in the class to offer maybe a Russian perspective too... like gosh that would be nice. Do we have any Russians?” And I sort of tentatively raised my hand half way because I’m half Russian and when she was looking around the room and didn’t see me, I said “I’m half Russian and this is actually something I heard and talked a lot about growing up, I could take a try at it”

“You’re not Russian, you’re just American with a little Russian blood” she said, dismissing me entirely as the class laughed like it was the funniest thing they’ve ever heard. I now realize what it means when people say they feel stung. I was paralyzed by those words and I don’t really know why. What makes it hurt more is that starting two seconds later she called on a series of five German douchebags to try and explain Russia’s motives and says “huh that’s an interesting idea” after each of them say something painfully obviously wrong. And I felt frozen.

If given the chance to unfreeze myself, I wish I said what I was feeling but didn’t have words for: “Hey. That’s not true. Russian was the language I said my first words in. It’s the language of my childhood and my soul. It connected me to something I felt distant from during the school day. I taught myself to read this language as soon as my mom taught me the alphabet as a little kid. I went to Russian school on the weekends when I was young. I worked hard to keep up this language even though I went through shit from my peers for it. I was the only speaker of this language I knew that was my age after the age of 10. The only other time I’d hear it was when my mom criticized me, wanted to manipulate me (because I told her she sounded sweeter in Russian so she used that to her advantage in making my life hell) bc my brother stopped speaking at a young age.

The only reason I have this connection is because I’ve never worked harder for anything else in my life. I took years of Russian lit courses (in Russian) at the local uni when I was in high school. Until then I’d only done math and reading (just for fun not for school) in Russian. Having learning and sight disabilities and being expected to keep up with both college and high school class and workloads was overwhelming at times. Like I was 14, this wasn’t an “easy A” as my friends joked, it was a college level literature course. But I loved it like nothing else. It was an oasis of peace during my adolesence just getting to hear my dearest language spoken by both native speakers and those who adopted it just because of their love for it. It was the first time I realized that this aspect of me isn’t shameful. Plus, the college kids treated me like I was such a hotshot because I grew up speaking the language and I was like a tiny 14 year old in a russia Olympic jacket and a bowl cut so that made my life. Just getting to be around places where for once, I understood everything that was being said in the exact emotion it was intended, having my cultural touchstones be the norm and that I got to interact with instantly more people in this language was really special.

Maybe what pissed me off so much is not only that I think it’s wrong, but that I think she’s right. My experience is different from a Russian experience, which is why I never claimed to be Russian even when I was the most Russian person in that classroom. My experience of being Russian (Jewish) (Italian)American is as much a story of love and connection as it is of shame and disconnection. It is the story of pain feeling inadequate to everyone, always. When I was six, kids were already refusing to play with me because their parents told them I was a spy or an enemy (which wtf who parents their kid like that) just because I talked about visiting my family in the summer (which is a normal thing to do) and gd forbid they live in RUSSIA. The bullshit hasn’t stopped since. My entire childhood, my mom was vigilant about who I was allowed to tell about being Russian because of it. I thought Russian a really important language to people here. I thought they cared about us. I thought someone else who didn’t have to care about us, fucking cared about us Russian Jews. How can a fellow Jew, an academic, not understand the inherent pluralism of Jewish and Russian experiences when she’s lived in this country surrounded by Russian Jews her whole life?

And I get it. I’m not technically Russian. I don’t have a Russian passport. I didn’t grow up in Russia and that still means there’s always someone more qualified to answer certain questions. But I didn’t think it was going to be some goyische fucking German. Cuz at least I saw saturated with these types of discussions about Russian politics, not being allowed to voice my opinion bc these are Russian jewish middle aged and older people lol kids don’t have valid opinions to them, but listening intently since infancy. I watched Russian news and tv shows (we didn’t have money for both English and Russian language tv so my mom chose the Russian tv channels) on the rare occasion I sat in front of the tv. I hung around Russian speakers more than English speakers (of my parent’s age and older) for most of my childhood until this year. And it’s not just the language, it’s the culture too. It’s the fact that no one around me shared these cultural touchstones growing up. and I didn’t share their American ones even though I grew up in the US.

But trips to Russia didn’t make me feel understood in the ways I craved it would. My family always commented on how amazingly I spoke Russian «просто без акцента!» (without an accent) *insert kisses from relatives you don’t even know who they are but they know everything about you* so I was always kind of aware that I couldn’t seamlessly fit in there either. Especially when in my mom’s small town, children who played with me had literally never seen someone with my color of skin and told me I looked “dirty” which catalyzed my whole washing my hands till my arms got dry and peeled and being frightened that I wasn’t getting “cleaner” and then getting diagnosed with my second subset of OCD at the age of seven. I had so many fond memories of my mom’s hometown. So much nostalgia. But I also have memories which pain me, like the many times I was chased out of stores or once in a doctor’s office because the person assumed I was Roma because of my appearance (like I said, small town). Things got even worse when the school I went to summer camp/summer classes in my mom’s hometown found out I was JEWISH. Oof. My mom convinced me that I was betraying my culture and my ancestors and alienating myself from my grandmother when I came out to her at 11, when I cut my hair after three years of her daily verbal harassment in my mother tongue (she knew it hurts more like that). She said if I wanted to continue “on this path” I would lose all connection to Russia.... “and you don’t want that, do you?” Suffice it to say, I got the message pretty young that I don’t belong in Russia either.

My whole life I’ve been translating half of my world to the other half of my world. And within each of these worlds I must translate my contexts many fold times more. (My Babushka still doesn’t know why I’m putting “poison” in my body for what she sees as a character flaw because she just doesn’t have the context for what ADHD is and the way I was taught to translate it in Russian is «дефицит внимание» or “deficit of attention/carefulness” which as far as she’s concerned is just an American invention for what could really be solved if I just sat more still.) And this has made my world so much richer to be lucky enough to have two native languages in which I learned how to express myself and gave me two whole realms through which to intimately understand the world and all of its nuances. You gain a family when you speak a language. It’s unlike anything else! It was even more special that I got to add Arabic at 12 and now Hebrew. I’m so lucky. But an inherent downside of being taught world views that conflict with each other in some very fundamental ways is really hard when you’re autistic and have ADHD because you have to juggle not just one set of social cues and norms, but two (or more, shout out to the multilinguals from childhood). It’s hard but it’s important and I’m so lucky that this was my birthright. I just wish people would take two seconds to try and understand. Or at least think about if something they said might make someone else feel like this, especially if they’re jewish. Like to ya it’s not a new thing to be torn in many directions. Even here where it’s the dominant culture, I expected her as someone who lives here and is an academic, she’d be better.

#jewish #class #school #study abroad #russian #russian jewish #queer #trans #russian jew #jew #adhd #autism #diaspora tag